So I was saying to his friend when we were chatting at home, that I had been to the park.
He sweated visibly.
Could he have been embarrassed about something?
Then his eyebrow lifted and he knew immediately that something was wrong - very wrong.
The park had been empty, I remember.
I had nearly stepped on a Robin that was dying of old age.
It reminded me of my own mortality.
Two people had been kissing on a park bench near the lake.
I felt the warmth of being in a good relationship myself.
The memory in my mind became clearer.
At the time I had been too cold to think.
But as the colours began to brighten here there was something.
The scarf of the girl in the kiss.
The golden hair which tucked out from under the hat.
The shoes on her feet.
Was that sadness I saw in his eyes?
It was my world that was breaking apart, not his.
My emotions were not what I would have believed.
Hate, love, anger and sympathy all in the space of a few moments.
He just stared, not saying anything, waiting for my reaction.
It was not his fault.
He had not meant to fall in love with her.
She had been the unfaithful, and even then there must have been a reason.
I put out my hand and offered him a coffee.
The door bell rang.
There was no hat, no scarf but it was her.
Same shoes, same golden hair.
She smiled - not at me, but at my friend, who was standing behind me.
He smiled back, nervously.
I tried to ask why, but she ignored me.
Pushing me out the way he grabbed her hand.
They left through the door.
I sat in the dark, in the corner, alone.
[I wrote this as an exercise during a computer course at university almost exactly twelve years ago. Total fiction.]