Her eyes were hazel in colour. And her complexion was sun kissed. As she approached me I noticed her fingertips were fumbling to correct a fallen shoulder strap on her dress. The greenness of the cotton becoming entwined with the redness of her varnished nails. She balanced the ever-so-slight material between her fingertips and lifted the strap and with a graceful motion, she swept back her hair from over her shoulder and let the strap fall onto her naked skin. The effect was not unlike that of dropping a Talcum Powder Puff  onto a bedside table from above. She has beautiful feet. I breathed in as the summer breeze blew her sweet pollen towards me. I savoured her scent for the first time.

She had first caught my eye whilst I was shielding them. I was lying on the grass, on my front, using the palm of my hand for shade and began to follow her every movements along the path she weaved. Placing my book beside me I stared intently. Even from such a distance I could tell it was her. The very first thing I noticed about her was the summer dress she had on and the movement of her body whilst she was wearing it. The pattern of the dress was as floral as any flower in the park. She was relatively tall in stature whilst remaining overall gentile and quite petite. Her long, auburn hair, at one point, when moved by a gentle breeze, seemed to wrap itself around the entire sun, fiery strands silhouetted like hundreds of fireflies darting about her head as she walked towards me. And there she was, just then, only a meter away as I lay at her feet. She passed me by once more. But this time she stops. And sits on the adjacent grassy bank...