I stopped in my tracks as I breathed in the whiff of her peach perfume as she passed by. I turned around to catch a glimpse of the prettiest damsel I had ever laid my eyes on, just in time to see her vanish into the crowd. I sighed. Maybe I was never meant to fall in love with someone, and when I did, it was supposed to be a fleeting affair. Every time I thought I had finally found someone I could think of spending my life with, they'd leave me alone. There I'd be, on the street, standing like an idiot, lost in my own thoughts, as people would bump by me swearing, just like this girl had done. I felt like crying then and there, of course I would look stupid, but at that moment that was the last of my worries.

My train of thoughts was broken as I realised someone clapped in front of me to grab my attention. Embarrassed that I must have been looking like a total idiot, I blinked my eyes frantically to see a man who seemed like a shopkeeper from a nearby shop stood there laughing. I looked down at my clothes, I couldn't have possibly worn my shirt inside out; the shirt was alright. I touched my face to feel whether I had shaved half my face, yet again; but to my relief it was alright too. I stared blankly at the man who stood before me laughing his guts out. I was ready to shout some rude words at him, when he controlled his laughter and stammered at me, Sahab, aap to ache dikh rahe ho, magar wo jo ladki apke bagal me see gai na usne apka sirf dil nahi, balki apka batua bhi churaya hai (Sir, you are looking good, but that girl who just passed by, she didn't just steal your heart, she stole your wallet too.)

His words were like a thunderclap to me. Instinctively my hand went up to my chest pocket where minutes ago I was feeling my heart jumping in joy, drowning in love. Alas! The man was right; my pocket was empty, just like my life. Wait! I felt something, a piece of paper maybe. I took it out and there in my hand was a souvenir left by the thoughtful pretty thief with the words, 'Thanks, darling', with a kiss accompanying them. I took it to my lips and kissed that imprint. I wondered how delicious and soft her lips would have been. The shopkeeper stared at me as i shamelessly carried on with my antics. She smelt of peaches and tasted of strawberries, the girl of my dreams left a kiss for me and nothing could ever make me happier. And so nothing did. I am allergic to strawberries.