It was a wet morning; the sky was frowning with puffy dark clouds in the air. The air was thin and so cold. The air was so icy, and every inhalation was razor sharp on nostrils. Cars sped by with a wooosh that splashed on angered pedestrians. People filed by in packs on their way to work in silence. The few who spoke looked like they were smoking when their hot breath met with the icy air.
Some women opened their umbrellas when a slight drizzle began. Some opportunistic men seized the moment to chat up women to get free shelter as the rain occasionally doused and then quickly stopped. It felt like someone in the heavens was on tap duty playing around with it. Turning it on at full pressure and then all of a sudden turns the tap off.
Everyone was so busy filing by and avoiding getting wet, no one noticed the shabby figure seated by the neighbourhood school fence. The only thing covering the person was a bright red jacket, now completely soaked. From afar it was hard to tell whether it was a man or woman.
After the rain completely came to a halt, and the sun began to pierce its way through the gloom. The figure fumbled and hobbled onto its feet. And alas there she was, after six years of searching there was Bella.