The sky was gloomy just like him. He was walking without knowing where he was going. The instinctive walk took him to the park where he had spent most of his childhood. He sat on the very familiar bench and closed his now red with rage eyes and let his mind free to float anywhere. 

“Casey, come here, time to go!!” A very sad yet beautiful voice forced him to open his eyes and turn around to saw the owner of such a beautiful voice. Unfortunately she had her back towards him so all he could feast his eyes upon were the silky flawless jet black hair. Not being able to see the face, he started imagining her features and doing justice with her sad melodic voice. He started with her eyes and thought that if they were to be black then it would be like plunging into the deepest black ocean from which you cannot come out. Another thought crossed his mind and he thought what if they were to be brown?  His mind answered then it would be like staring into smooth and fathomless wells, filled by the echoes of thoughts as they climb to the surface. Another tickle of mind and it hit him what if they were to be blue, what then? The answer was as quick as was the tickle then they would be like drops of ink;carelessly dropped in the rush of the writer to finish that urgent love letter of face.  And if they were to be green then staring into them would be like watching grass popping out of snow sodden ground. 
As he was searching for more apt similes  to imagine her unseen eyes, she stood up,  popped open her purse, drew out black glasses, unfolded her walking stick, grabbed Casey’s hand and trodded her way.


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