We were all outside. We were outside without even an umbrella. Indeed, I brought one with me, but I simply didn’t get to use it. It is WE, after all. So how can I be the only one to have an umbrella but not her? So, we were all outside in the evening without even an umbrella.
First, it started with tiny tick-tocks. It went like TICK on her nose; TOCK on her head; TICK on her cheek; TOCK on her dress. By the time the tick-tock came to an end, tick-tick took the show. Tick tick tick on her lashes, tick tick tick on her lips, tick tick tick on her dress, tick tick tick on her hair.
She was all soaked in the rain but her cheeks.
They were gleaming and dashing under the thin coat of moisture she had just got on. The gleam she had on her face, though, was not like the sun but the moon. It almost felt like munching on a fluffy cloud. She was smiling, not exactly smiling, something in between laughing and smiling. A part of her gleam mirrored in her eyes.
She still had dark soy sauce eyes. (Indeed, they were coffee-coded, but I don’t want you all to think of her as common as coffee.) They were noticeable even on that muggy evening. Her hair, too, was so damp that a few strands of hair got stuck on her nape. They looked like careful Black strokes from a painter.
Her slipper less feet were slightly pressing the muddy earth. The earth, on the other hand, was gracefully bearing her on its bosom. A thousand muddy kisses had landed on her thinly crafted feet, painting them brown.
She started moving forward. Her white linen dress was dripping as she walked. Daintily, she stepped down like a bride walking down the aisle. It was effortless. I was sure that the grace she had in her every move came naturally to her or that she was the living form of grace.
She never looked back as there was no reason for her to. As she went away, mist smoothly wrapped her around. Her dress became mist, and mist became her dress. Further down the lane, she was stepping through the thick mist, hair hanging down, swinging side to side. I could imagine her thin feet crafted by God himself, faintly pressing the mist as it would wipe all the dust off of her. There, she would let go of all the ties that came from the earth, dust and mud. She had almost faded away into the mist. She was further away, fluttering above the earth like a cloud.
Footsteps she left there on the earth still resembled her, her charm, her dainty walk. It was all that was left to say of her earthly ties.
As the rain got harder, I swiftly got on my way home with the umbrella.
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