His eyes were fixed on the steam coming out of his morning coffee on this cold winter day. He was wearing a shawl over his night dress and sitting in the small garden in front of his holiday home.
Somehow, the steam reminded him of her breath on a winter morning. How she pretended to make rings of smoke from her breath and how she failed to do so. He could almost hear the music of her teeth clattering in the chilly wind. The morning colors just resembled the pink on her cheeks during those cold days.
He remembered how delicate, how fragile she looked when she cozied herself in a blanket. He remembered the warmth when she melted in his arms and he hugged her with all the passion.
He removed the shawl and kept it aside. The winter was not very cold any longer.
Somehow, the steam reminded him of her breath on a winter morning. How she pretended to make rings of smoke from her breath and how she failed to do so. He could almost hear the music of her teeth clattering in the chilly wind. The morning colors just resembled the pink on her cheeks during those cold days.
He remembered how delicate, how fragile she looked when she cozied herself in a blanket. He remembered the warmth when she melted in his arms and he hugged her with all the passion.
He removed the shawl and kept it aside. The winter was not very cold any longer.
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