The splash of pink caught the eye. Paint spilled on the lush green carpet. A wildflower blooming by the side of the trail. A month back, it had been a tiny seed waiting for the monsoon showers to breathe life into it. A month later, it would have faded and died, after scattering seeds that will wait for the next monsoon rain.
I knew not the name of the flower. So ephemeral is it's existence that I might never see it again. We shared a moment in time, a point in space. And life will never be the same again.