Saturday

Alone

It's well past the agreed time.

Look out of the window. Look. It has even started to rain. It's cold.

She gives her mobile phone another glance. No miss call, no unread message. Just the date and time that seems to remain forever. It's cold. In her heart.

She watches as people on the street run into shops for shelter, she watches as couples hold on to each other under a not-too-big-for-two umbrella and her gaze stops around the corner of the shop that sells candies, hoping to see the ones she waits.

And then there, among the crowd, she notices her under the huge rain cape, and the one behind her holding up a hand to wave, not to miss another two at the back who are both carrying a box each.

She can never forget that feeling of relief. She knows, she might be sitting alone in an empty cafe; she might be alone with a phone that will not ring; she might be doing all sorts of things alone.

But she's never lonely. Because behind all the thoughts of her troubled mind, the silhouettes of her friends will lit a light in darkness.

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