I cry.
But I don't know why.
Ideas of why I cry pop like balloons before gently fizzing away.
Tears drift down my soft cheeks like slugs sliding down a leaf
leaving behind a soggy trail of water.
The tips of my long brown hair dampen from the tears that haven't turned to slush.
The feel of a warm gentle hand rubbing my shoulder reminds me everything's ok.
I reach for my soft red hankie but it has already been provided.
I blot away each tiny tear one by one until my face is dry.
Inspired by Amy T's art.