The lost boy and smile 

When I was a little girl, I felt for a cute little boy. He had dark brown hair, hot cocoa eyes, and an infectious smile. His teeth were so very adorable, right between his dancing dimples, I couldn’t help myself, I had to giggle and dance with him all the time. 

Summer came. And then it was primary school. I didn’t mind. I would be with my little prince of the smiles. 

Did we look that happy? Was the teacher jealous? She said we were not allowed to talk. He whispered, I smiled, we got punished. She wasn’t fair. Was it to set an example? We were both made to kneel below the blackboard, amidst the dust, chalk, and spider webs. She pushed my head quite hard, forcing me to touch the wooden floor with my forehead, and said we would have to stay like that until the bell rang. 

She separated us. He must have thought I was trouble because he stopped playing with me during break times. 

Later that week, I noticed his absence. We weren’t told anything. Why would we? We were just kids.

Then, after bugging my parents, I got to know what had happened. His father died. He had drowned. 

I don’t know why I wasn’t offered to go to his dad’s funerals, after all, our parents were neighbours. 

I didn’t get to see my childhood sweetheart again. He changed school. 

And I kept dreaming of a guy who would always want to dance and remind me how to smile. 

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