A gust of wind playing with her hair making me jealous, deep brown yet little eyes, high cheekbones, a sharp small nose, as if pasted in hurry. Why doesn't she smile? Why doesn't she talk? The world is inexpensive before her smile, does she realise?
Finally she gave me a glance, as if pearls were falling, yet I found no courage, for my heart had become forlorn. She did not even need to struggle to make an impact, for I was struggling within my heart, the impact had been made for long..