The sudden change in the weather poked the sun and it began to fade away….from bright yellow to an awkward orange and then a filthy brown, forcing the afternoon to retire earlier. A gust of wind, leaves got wings and the hat was blown from his head. He turned his face, to trace the hat as it had already joined the fleet of dry leaves and dust. The sudden storm heralded a downpour and the flying hat was enjoying the unprecedented independence. He was almost running to tame his hat. Just then the whistle of the approaching train was heard, I looked up in anticipation, caught a glance of his face and everything disappeared but the station.
A glance and memories surged, as sharp as a blade. Those brown eyes,that deep gaze and aquiline nose.The clock ticked back.
He was not at all willing to shift the…
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