This was her haven. No one knew who she was, why she was there, or if she'd be back tomorrow. If she did look someone in the eye, who's to say she'd ever meet that person again? She was all alone, et she was surrounded with life, and today happened to be the perfect day.
For just a moment, Malerie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The autumn air enclosed her in a world of gratefulness; thanks that she could actually get outside. She sat indian style and pulled out a sketchbook to place in her lap. After getting a pencil, she opened to a fresh page. She needed something to draw, but nothing came to her mind right away. Flipping through past pictures, she realized she needed some inspiration.
Malerie twisted about, taking in everything around her. Usually a common civilian was her model for the day, whether it was a business woman or a homeless man, she would sketch that person. Today no one wanted to unknowingly surrender themselves for her sketchbook. Most of the people in the park were casuals, going through their daily routines. She had drawn most of them before, including the impatient ones. She just couldn't find the right subject today.
She figured today was a day to practice her patience. A wind picked up slightly, flicking her long hair this way and that. Maybe I'll just dray the flowers, she thought to herself. No. Too boring. One of her hands propped her chin, the other tapped an eraser on her sketchpad. The wind blew a little stronger. Malerie looked toward the sky, watching the trees sway and hearing them rustle. In a matter of seconds, several loose papers from her sketchbook caught onto the wind as if they were parachutes. They flipped and twirled down the park sidewalk. Malerie chased after them, leaving her bag behind on the grass.
She caught up to her sketches. As she was gathering the drawings, she saw a pair of puma cabana racers stop in front of her. When she stood, the person was still collecting random sketches that were out of her reach. As he straightened to full height, he looked Malerie in the eyes. She noticed that they were silvery-grey and captivating. Shaggy, chestnut hair fell to his neck and a deep complexion perfected the Adonis-like figure. He sported an Old Navy, rugby-stripe polo. Malerie was lost for words.
The boy they stared at the papers in his hand; specifically one of an older man looking out the #14 Pacebus window.
"These are amazing," he commented as he handed them back to the owner.
"Thank you," Malerie replied. "And thanks for helping me catch them."
"No problem. Well, I'll see you around," he said.
"Yeah... Thanks again."
"You're welcome," he said with a perfect smile. He turned and ran back to his friends who were playing a game of pick-up soccer.
Malerie hugged the papers to her chest. She stared at the boy walking away. Who's to say she wouldn't see him again?
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