It was on Baltimore Street when she caught my attention. The clicking of her heels against the cold ground made me glance at her direction, and that's how my eyes were glued on her.
She was wearing a trench coat with a color as soft as the caramel of my favorite coffee, her hair tied in a bun with several strands falling off as if she had it on for several hours already. I couldn't tell what spell she put on me that I stopped playing the guitar for I was busking when she passed by, but I followed her straight into the museum just a few blocks away.
And there I found her, staring at a beautiful painting by Victorino Gomez from early 1900s. It was a painting of a couple, dancing in the middle of a barley field under a beautiful blue sky.
She then turned to me, not surprised at all by my presence. Like she has been waiting her whole life for me to follow her into an art museum. She smiled, her eyes glittered as it landed onto mine. Strangely, feeling an unfamiliar connection like we have known each other our whole life.
"Mi amor, remember when Victorino had to scold us because we were so noisy while he was painting us?" she asked me.
credits to Google for the pictures.
Good article