Morning has just broken, just like the old song. The black of the sky gradually lightened and changed to light blue. The sun was still hiding but the orangish color has started to brighten the horizon. The silhouette of the bridge tower and the baroque-style statues have started to show their real color. Down by the riverbank several white swans gliding on the water. Their movement was so majestic.Â
A young woman stood there on the Charles Bridge. Quietly taking all of it in. There were not many spectators on the bridge that morning. Only a handful of visitors, some with cameras on tripod facing the east, trying to capture the beautiful morning view. The usual huge crowd visiting this particular popular bridge of Prague were probably still cuddling under their warm blankets. It was end of February and the air was still cool.Â
The girl with the hoodie was still there, standing on the cobblestone bridge. Her hands were deep inside the pocket of her coat. She now had her face up towards the sky. She looked very sad. There were faint traces of tears on her cheeks and her eyes were a bit swollen. Her long hair swung by the wind.
The pretty young woman on the bridge sighed. A long unhappy sigh. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it impatiently. She stared long and hard towards the water. Her face hid so many emotions struggling on her mind.Â
= = = =
That was another time and place. I can only picture her there when a postcard with Charles Bridge of Prague picture arrived at my desk at the office. There were only few words. Words of disillusion.
"I wish you were here, Natasha. Please don't forget me."
How I wished the same. She would have felt happy, joyful, and I'd feel the same. Being with her had always been the ultimate joy.Â
But sometimes life happens not the way we want it to be.Â
"I will always remember you, Anne..."
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