Little Blue Ball

I was strolling nonchalantly along an unknown lake. Soaking myself in the chilly winds and among the early risers, I allowed myself to remain isolated from the bitter, bleak Shanghai morning mundanity.

An abrupt sensation on my lower calf made me stop. I gazed at a blue ball beside my right foot. I bent over and picked up the blue ball. It was a dusty blue ball imprinted with repeated butterflies pattern.

My ball! Someone hollers. A little boy. A little boy with red blushed cheeks. A little boy wrapped with thick oversized grey jacket. A little boy running towards me. My ball!

I extended my right hand and handed the dusty blue ball imprinted with repeated butterflies patterns back to him.

Now, the boy took the dusty blue ball imprinted with repeated butterflies patterns and started running up a gently grass slope.

Recalling moments ago, my right hand had been holding on to the dusty blue ball imprinted with repeated butterflies patterns………..

Dusty blue ball imprinted with repeated butterflies patterns

Nothing in my right hand now

I am holding on

A bitter-cold, bleak January skies