She tried squinting her tired old eyes, no glasses over them, she never quite liked the alien feeling of glass and metal and plastic floating in front of her eyes..
"A stranger. Never saw him before. I wonder where he came from. What business could a young lad like him has around the fields at this time of year? Couldn't be one of the volunteer guys. They came around three months back. I think. Could be one of those lost souls. Looking for peace. I hope he could find some here. Time takes toll on you, and time in the city, unsurprisingly so. I really hope he could find his peace. Or at least part of it. Ah, he glanced. Those eyes. What could you have been possibly been through my boy? Those eyes. Not even death himself could have have those eyes. Poor little thing. The war. People were going around with those eyes at the time. The time when all you have is hope, and that is not enough to save you and your family. Perhaps I should go over. Ask about the weather. Something. Take his minds off of his worries. But what if it's the weather that is bothering him? The weather has certainly been weird this past couple of years. You can no longer tell when the rainy season is coming. The tune has lost its structure. Somewhat. Maybe I shouldn't go and talk to him. What he need is peace after all. What on earth could a battered old lady like me talk about anyway? I gave up on politics and all the gossiping years ago. Bad things are always happening to everyone. I don't need to complicate my life meddling around with other people's business. Petty business that is. Petty, forgetfully small, and momentary business. This kid. It's something else altogether. If he ever found whatever it is that he is looking for, I wonder if he would come through here again. Reliving his moment. Next year. Perhaps next year he'll come around. With a shiny new eyes. He would see the road that he walked today differently. Instead of the solemn rocks he'll notice all the little morning glories creeping on the lampposts. Maybe he would even come over and asks me about the weather. Tells me about all the troubles he had back in the city, and how the walk saved him. And he'll asks me about my son.. my son. It has been 2 years. 2 long years. Maybe he'll pick up the phone this time."
