Strolling in the greenery to burn some calories, the aftertaste of coffee is still in my tongue. I can still smell its aroma amid the fresh morning air.
They were there, in the widespread acacia tree, near the creek, when they caught my attention—lovers sharing the sunrise, man leaning on the tree trunk, woman resting on his chest. He pointed to her a white bird bathing as the gleam of the sun reflected in the water—healthy rays of morning sun.
Another bird joined the first one, then another, and another.
He whispered something in her ear that triggered a not-so-gentle laugh. Her giggle reverberate the morning air; the birds flew in the sudden disturbance. She saw the birds flying away, laughter abrupt; she covered her mouth, tapped him softly in the shoulder, and then raises her head to see his reaction.
Their eyes locked in a split-second intimacy; I looked away, for I knew what would follow.
The sun is now higher, brighter. I wonder how long I was stocked watching them. I sighed and decided to withdraw my post which I realize, also an acacia tree, perhaps younger but as well shady.
Then I raise my hand to see the ring in my middle finger—worn reversibly, pearl in my palm—closed eyes, in my hand I feel the round little thing. Time to stand from leaning on this tree, glance for the last time on the splendid scenery, it made me sigh once more, look up in the sky, close my eyes, and turn away.
I run as tears fall astray.
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