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In which a woman finds herself opening her heart to a sad five year old child, and his quiet dad.
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When I met him on a rainy afternoon
the air smelt like gardenias.
My black oxford pumps were soaked
from accidentally stepping
on a puddle,
and the tiny yellow umbrella
I held up
barely saved me from the chilly rain.
When I met him on a rainy afternoon,
the sky was pink and blue.
I was starving and almost craving
to smell the stuffy scent
of my closed up home's
small living room.
When I met him on a rainy afternoon,
his son held my feet out of the blue
and called me mum.
He rushed out of the restaurant
only seconds later,
his cheeks a pale flushed hue.
When I met him one day
on a rainy afternoon,
he looked up into my eyes
and apologised.
And inside my head,
I thought to myself...
what a lovely way to meet
a lovely man
on such a lovely rainy afternoon.
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