I was sitting on an old bench with an Agatha Christie in my hand while the wind blew my hair across my face. Being a disturbed soul, I got up to find my missing hair-tie, keeping my book on the wooden oak bench. When I turned towards the bench, I found a woman, in her mid-thirties, sitting there with my book and the same hair-tie that I had lost. She was a raven-haired woman with eerie hazel-green eyes. Moderately dressed, she did not speak a word and continued to ignore me.
I felt a bit intimidated at first but gathered up the courage to talk to her. Her attire was unusual and quirky. Naturally, a woman in her thirties, does not dress as a teenager. Her orange shirt attracted a few. Her long nails were crumbling the pages of my book. Her shoes amused me. It had little butterflies on them. Her nonchalant expression made me believe for sometime that she was differently-abled. Her legs were crossed and her arms were lying solemnly on her lap with my book. I lent out my hand, explaining that I was in the need of the hair-tie. She looked at me, scanned me from head to toe and handed me the tie. I was occupied with the ideas hatching in my mind that I forgot to notice how queer her hat was. It had a Quail bird on it surrounded with colorful berries on an ochre base.
"Hi, if you are done with the book, may I get it back?"
I blurted out.
She turned towards me, paid no attention to my desperate behavior and leaned back on the bench, seeming to enjoy the book. I had to leave soon as my mother had requested me to buy fruits on the way back. I decided to leave my book with her.
The next morning, I tried to find the woman, but she was not there. I found my book on the same wooden bench. Page 234 was folded and as I picked it up, a little note fell out. It was a 'Thank You' note with a little piece of candy.
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