diegoper

She hadn't moved from her window in over a day. Watching for the impossible was something that she was content to do. It injected her with the faint hope that she might witness some of those precious memories once again. Maybe his decrepit old Clio, chugging along and spluttering to a grumbling stop right outside her house, or maybe the bicycle that he sometimes opted for instead, signalling his arrival with the ringing of a bell. It economised on both petrol and his nerves, he had always told her with a smile. His smiles were gems. She had always watched in rapt fascination when his lips pulled back and curled upwards, his left cheek dimpl