They sat at the table in the outdoor cafe. She was plain. There was nothing physically outstanding about her except for the fact that he stared into her eyes as if in a rapture.
His eyes were a flower petal blue. His hair was encased in a pony tail at the back of his head The wild curls of his head were tied in an unbroken line of string cascading down his back.
He held her hand gently, as though she were made of fine glass. His eyes whispered her name, and she sat there in silent, unbroken conversation with him.
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