Schools in the capital opened to grey clouds and rain pitter-pattering on the brick structures.
The children were only too happy to be the receiving end of the inclement weather, drawing up detailed plans of the fun they would have post-school (read playing in the slush, dancing on the roads with their satchels on their heads for cover, smiles plastered on their cherubic faces, sludgy football etc).
The three guard dogs who faithfully walk me from my house to the colony gate where my cab comes to pick me, were also in a particularly frisky mood. While they followed me at heel, the way they faithfully do on al weekdays, they stopped to see an interesting frog that went hoppity-hop into the nearby park. With cocked-up ears, the three black dogs eagerly dashed to give something to the frog to run about.
Face pressed against my cab window, I saw the rain droplets trickle down silently.
As silently as my tears that streamed invisibly across my cheeks, marking yet more days of his not being here…
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