I Spy With My Little Eye

They met at the park every other Sunday. They would sit, bond while they watched people. They’d play a little game, “I spy with my little eye”.

They had their Sunday’s. They met in other places but they enjoyed their Sunday’s.

“I spy with my little eye…”

“I spy with my little eye…”

“I spy with my little eye,” he said, looking at her affectionately, “a beautiful woman, in jeans, a white T and a red cardigan”

She chuckled, “that’s not how it goes!”

“I spy with my little eye… she doesn’t love me anymore.”

She was taken aback. She looked at him, her shock evident on her face.

“I … ”

“It’s okay. Really.”

He stood up, kissed her on the forehead. And walked away.

From her.

From them.

Forever.

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