What a face!

It was not a fancy busy morning. The sun was heading its highest and beaded sweat trickled down my forehead. We halted before getting back home. In between the crowd we stopped at road side shop to buy some lemons. 

Out of the humming crowd she came towards us with short little steps. The very smile spoke much louder, even louder than the words. The lines on her face etched had already told her story of happy, rich life. In a photograph you would perhaps clock her as eighty or more, and I think that's where she was. It was her litheness and articulated speech that got me, an echo of youth in someone so old. 

When my eyes flicked between the two, the woman and her youthful self, I could see. It was nice to imagine the person inside, the girl she was all those years ago. Then I already know if I listen to her words and pay attention to her smile, to her eyes, she's still in there as much as she ever was. 

Perhaps this is all I was able to do, with both of us knowing what her future is. 

It was a beautiful short halt and  I remember the face still in my head as fresh as flower...

....

Isn't it beautiful to look at all those faces? 

Different..

Beautiful..

Sculptured..

Spilling emotions ..

And being home to one another!