TEARS OF DECEMBER

The Blossoming of December

Happiness all depends to how people perceive their situations.  When people change the way they see things, bad omens turn into bits and pieces of golden thoughts.  With this, happiness is never just an option but a choice to make.  To be happy does not mean to be free from challenges and downfalls.  To be happy means to enjoy all feelings that life can give. Change the way one thinks.

Lorie didn't take her eyes away from the traffic enforcer.  She knew that there's something great about that very moment; thus, feeling the gushing of warm blood into her veins, where immortal seeds are most likely to grow anytime, any moment.

Lorie took the opportunity to take a look at the traffic enforcer's badge.

The name was Arthur.

"Very legendary name..." Lorie has been liking the name.

Arthur is a very legendary name. King Arthur is a legendary British leader of the late 5th and early 6th centuries, who, according to medieval histories and romances, led the defence of Britain against Saxton invaders in the early 6th century. The details of Arthur's story are mainly composed of folklore and literary invention, and his historical existence is debated and disputed by modern historians.

Lorie knew it but during that time, Lorie was meeting another Arthur.  She wasn't able to meet any man named Arthur in her life. Could Arthur be a better name than Adam's?

It's premature to say... It's a premature idea...

"Are you okay, ma'am?" said Arthur, the manly traffic enforcer Lorie started to think about.

Lorie ran out of words. 

Her being nervous right in front of a beautiful man made her tamed. Arthur's eyes were like almonds.  The color was brown.  His eyes were captivating that made Lorie a little bit possessed or something.  Arthur's eyes were a little different from Adam's. 

At her surprise, Arthur asked, "Ma'am? Are you okay?"

Loried answered, "Yes - I'm fine.  I'm really sorry about what happened. I mean..."

The response was followed by a kilometric pause.

"You have to stop thinking too much, ma'am.  Too much thinking is dangerous, you know that. I wonder what kept you from staying too long at the middle of the road. You must be very troubled or probably thinking a lot." Arthur smirked.

It was a "pretty, sweet smirk" from someone Lorie didn't know. 

Normally, Lorie never pay attention to people she just meet.  She has a high degree of sarcasm.  She easily gets irritated talking to strangers.  But with Arthur? It's a little different.

"What did you just say?" Lorie said.

"I told you assumptions about "your too much thinking"? about things.  sorry to intrude.  Those were just assumptions. Those were hypothetical." said Arthur with a grin.

"I didn't know that traffic enforcers were trained to read minds." Lorie responded with a smile.

"Not really. I just sensed what you felt inside your car. It's something unusual for a woman here to drive all alone. There must be something..." said Arthur.

"And you're prophetic assumptions start to web huh..." Lorie was amused.

"Webbing is like weaving stories, ma'am. But the stories may be real or not." Arthur replied.

Lorie wasn't irritated. In fact, she was challenged by Arthur.

Arthur seemed to be brilliant minded beau.  He was oozing with too much appeal. She hasn't met similar guys before... well, except for Adam who was more than the smartest persons on earth.

How many men have brains?  Absolutely, all men have brains.

In statatistics, how many men have "thinking brains? That, women need to find out. 

Categorically speaking, men with "thinking brains" are difficult to find yet such a description of a man truly exists.  It's just that, women should kiss a lot of toads before they meet their better halves with "thinking brains".

They say, love is blind or love is "color" blind.

The idea may be true.

Love is blind [or "color" blind] but it has a lot of listening devices. Love is present in every sense.

Love is like the emerald grass that withered for a long time yet its roots were not burnt and never died. Love is like the petals of roses that for quite some time gave up yet turned into lovely, scented ones.

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