The faint smell of falling leaves seemed to emanate from a boy as he dashed through the sudden downpour.
A girl was watching him from across the street, in a nearby alley, safe from the rain.
A mysterious feeling budded within the boy. It was something of an enigma—like a flower one can recognize, but never identify.
In that moment, as he felt compelled to look up, the eyes of the pair met.
Neither of the two could break away their gaze—as if they had been enchanted.
But both, having somewhere to be, left with a familiar pink rising to their cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
Winter, was it?
Historia Corta[2nd place in the Melancholy Awards] And just like that, Winter had ceased to be a part of my life. " They say the mind may, but the heart never forgets. " ©2017 MINHTEA
