GyanGurus

It was raining furiously when he saw her. Sitting on a park bench seeming like a fresh, crisp and clear autumn day, but drenched still. In a black dress, bare foot. And just like that she had vanished.

She lingered in his mind. She lingered.

“Happy birthday man!” said John. It was his birthday. John had been trying to divert his attention from whatever, whoever had it. He had seemed distant for days now.

Concerned, John planned only a small gathering. With close friends.

They went. His mind was somewhere else, immersed in her thoughts. There was laughter, familiar banter. And it was quite.

He excused himself to get some air. It was raining furiously and there she was. In the black dress, barefoot, fresh, crisp and clear as an autumn day, drenched still.

She was running, heels in hand. She came next to him and smiled.

“What a day,” she said.

“Yes. What a day,” he replied. He offered her a drink and they went inside.

-Sona