Windy and cold weather made me hate all around the world. I was waiting for the bus that was as always late.
She was sitting in front of me and I immediately realized that she didn’t suit to this busy atmosphere, this dirty bus and these sleepy people. She was different… Absolutely different.
She was looking angelic gorgeous and barefacedly beautiful simultaneously. The stranger was tall and slim. She was nearly eighty, but her posture wasn’t stooped, she was slender like a ballerina. The woman had thick curly white hair, which was neatly collected in bun. Hundreds of small wrinkles on her were silently describing her life. But the main feature I remembered - hands in elegant black gloves, which were holding a miniature bouquet of violets.
But her eyes… When she raised her sight and looked in my eyes I felt a fear. There were something repulsing in her eyes. Something crazy and horrible. There was no love in her deep blue eyes. There was no drop of love. Only emptiness and loneliness.
I noticed that in this usual, full of routine bus, she was only one unusual person, who did hurry nowhere. However, in the same time I felt that she was unusual only for me. Did they are used to her? Didn’t they noticed her?
Station. She got out of the bus and went directly to… a cemetery. She brought violets to someone who stole a love from her eyes.
Next moment she disappeared, dissolved in the air.
And then I had only one question - who is her? Delirium or reality? I didn't know. But I was sure that these violets she brought not the first time. Deliriously or in reality. No matter.
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