I'm waiting for him to leave
Do I want him to go?
He's gone

I'm walking down the rocky street
Sun flaring and blinding me
The trees are thick with dull green leaves
I find a place to sit

I feel the wooden crevices under my hand
The other hand resting on a page
I hear a sigh of frustation

Blonde Hair
Brown Eyes
Tall
They huff again

"Excuse me? Are you lost"
I ask, trying to help
They turn, eyes meeting mine
I take an intake of breath
They smile, eyes shining with thanks
They move towards me

Am I lost?