Thursday 5 August 2010

The Young Night Grew Old

The young night grew old as we sat side by side.

There we were - on a worn bench pointing out the stars above, barely visible in London's hazy sky.

Few words were said, but there was no need. We understood.

A cool breeze whispered to us. It signaled the end of summer - of days spent in warmth. And we decided to leave.

We were nearly home.

I stopped, and offered her my arm. She looked surprised and hesitant.

To her confusion I replied: '10 years is a long time... don't take it so seriously'.

And so she took my arm,
and we continued our walk into the night.

A good memory.