The wind seemed to come to a standstill.
Crisp rustling sounds filled the air - the world was filled with innumerable noises as the last sign of chill dispersed at the end of spring.
Wilson Finley's posture hadn't changed much.
He let his hand holding the cell phone hang down. His cold, pale fingertips were casually tapping on the phone as he watched the fading figure of the little girl running in the distance. It was blurred by the light and shadow, but it was full of life, radiant, and hopeful.
He seemed to be living in a completely different world.
For quite a while.
The phone vibrated again.
There was no sign of discontent on Wilson Finley's face. His soft mole added a hint of charm to his cool demeanor. He slightly closed his eyes, gently touching his eyebrow bone, murmuring in an inexplicably emotional voice, "Such a young girl-"
The boldest move she made was just a hug, which seemed trivial in the eyes of a man who had been an adult for so long.
Memorable?
Perhaps.
