It wasn't his curly hair that attracted her but what he held in his hand. A bit clumsy he held it but it was clear to her what it was. She tried to have a closer look at the brand. It looked familiar to her and she felt curious where and how he got it. Coincidence or a gift perhaps? From a distance, it was hard to tell if it was what she once had. Once a long time ago. So long that hardly anyone remembered its existence or perhaps those who did all died? How long ago had it been she had one? Twenty years, thirty or?
"It's over forty years ago," she whispered, "forty years, whoever thought I would still be around."
She hesitated but couldn't help walk closer. She learned it wasn't a wise thing to do. You never knew how people responded these days. Not the world but the nation had changed. Greeting one, helping out each other, shaking hands, making a chat, offering a ride or a candy was forbidden. You could easily get sued and end up in prison. They would not lock her in but end her life. The elderly were a curse for the nation. Still... she couldn't help herself, needed to know.
"Excuse me..."
Surprised he looked up at the elderly person that dared to approach me. Did anyone ever have the courage to do so? He couldn't recall it ever happens.
Slowly he moved the item to his mouth, between his half-closed eyes he kept an eye on her. What was it she wanted, did she try to stop him? No way!
"Can I see what you hold in your hand, please?"
He didn't know why but he slowly opened his hand and there it was. The three Musketeers. It looked the same as she remembered although a bit shorter and the name was changed.
"Curly early," she mumbled, "it's called Curly Wurly these days".
"Take this one," he said, "I order them online. They fit into the letterbox."
He smiled as he handed her over the one in his pocket.
"Merry Christmas," she said, "and thank you for your generosity."
Her heart felt light as she went back home. She had met a friendly person after all this time, just before the end was near.
Prompt used: curly hair
