"I feel bad for them. I really do."
she said while they were on a ride in his car, watching the people fixing the roadwork in the twilight.

"It's their job honey, their daily bread. Someone has to."

".. but still, they physically put much effort than any of us aren't they?"

"yeah! sort of."

"You know, i do feel bad for women and men who sell fish,
screaming daily and walking several miles carrying the burden." she said.

This time he didn't say anything.

'Her heart was not just a beating heart, but a soft wool that can knit for any helpless who is looking for warmth and comfort.'

Smiling at this thought while his hands were on the steering wheel, he glanced at her, and saw plethora of pathos gleaming in her pitiful eyes, even for random strangers around her.

He was awestruck by her beauty, inner beauty.
© ArtEcstatic