It sat there on the railings of the balcony. The newspaper she was reading had some terrible news, yet her gaze went to the dark innocence in its eyes. It was not hunger that, she saw in them, but a rare warmth that the species are not known for. A gentle breeze wafted it as she held onto the sheets of paper that were already crumbled.
It was 27th February, a day she remembered to forget. He was everything, handsome, witty and flamboyant and stylish. Even the way he held the ciggy in hands had a distinctive difference. He was her hero from a very long time and knew her perhaps more than she did. When she had cried for silly things, he had joined her in her intense grief and crooned for her, songs he never knew, and took her to places he never went himself.
Was it him? She saw the same kindness he had in his eyes. When it hit him, she didn’t know. She knew it when he failed to talk to her, to recognize her. He shouldn’t have left without telling her, one last hug or a kiss on her teary face. It was so unfair.
She looked at the Newspaper as she wanted to move away from the memory that deprived her of the best moments of her life. There were sensational headlines but the bold letters wasn’t fascinating enough for her that morning.
She looked back at the bird. The innocent crow kept its gaze on her, its beak pointed at her. She suddenly noticed that its eyes were not fluttering and fixed on her. He was like this. When she played with her small dolls or played the piano or just sat and did home work, his gaze was so intense on her. As if he didn’t want to miss even a moment in her life.
Suddenly it rose on its feet, looked at her one more time and hopped into the air and fluttered its wings and flew away. She hoped the memory would fade with it. Instead it drew her back into the waves of memories.
My dad was the best dad any girl would have had!