Blanketed

There they were. He was in his adorable little sneakers and his cute little hoodie, filled with excitement. He was overwhelmed. Thrilled. Exhilarated.

And she was, wearing an eye-catching yellow sari, with her old cane in hand, that was keeping her on her toes, balanced enough to stand. I admired her courage. Her bravery. Her boldness and willingness to never give up.

Just ten more steps and they'd be there. Free!

Alas! It was all a matter of seconds. The little boy's excitement and delighted mood was nowhere to be seen, nor was the courage and the valour displayed by the grandmother.

I looked around eagerly, hoping to find it. Wanting to find it. I wound up climbing down those very stairs, trying to search for what'd been lost, trying to obtain the unobtainable.

Just when I was about to give up, I stepped in something. The smell was quite familiar and so was the colour. And indeed! There it was. The boy's exhilaration. The grandmother's bravery. It was all there.

But it wasn't inside of them anymore. No, it was now blanketed. Blanketed by a huge sheet of red.