I once knew a man named King. He was a man of routine and mystery. He walked his Retriever Dalia every afternoon in the park and took the same route everyday.
He never spoke to anybody, never looked anyone in the eye. He simply walked through the park, with Dalia on a gold leash beside him.
I knew King because I'm a very observant person. I was particularly interested in him. There was just something about him that always made me gravitate towards him.
I looked at him from afar, studied how he walked, and stood like a gentleman. I guessed he was older than I was. Way older. I could tell by the gray of his hair, and the way that he dressed formally.
I first saw him one afternoon a month ago while I was sitting on a park bench, sketching the landscape of the park and was immediately drawn to his dog. I noticed the retriever first,( I love dogs), and admired how black and shiny the dog's fur was.
My eyes traveled slowly from the dog to the man holding the golden leash, which made me think that he must be a rich man. I thought to myself a dog who looked magnificent as that surely had a very caring master.
I was smitten by him in an instant.
I looked at him, not even minding if he would look my way and catch me looking, (he didn't) and watched him until he vanished at the exit of the park.
I liked him since then, and was very glad to find out that the next afternoon while I secretly waited for him to show up, he was there.
He was there the next afternoon, and the next afternoon after that, until I learned he particularly did this everyday as a routine.
I couldn't bring myself to him. I didn't even know who he was, but I could tell I already had feelings.
Until that one day I brought a small binocular with me, just so I could see him up close.
I was always sitting on a park bench on the hillside of the park, and never moved any closer.
I didn't want to be seen. I wanted to observe him from this far. Two weeks in doing this, I didn't know it started to become an obsession.
I kept coming back at the same time, trying to see anything different, never approaching him. I brought my sketchbook all the time too, but since then I never really drew anything. I just kept it with me so I could pretend I was doing something else.
So this one time that I brought my binocular with me, I came to learn of something more.
His name, and his dog's name.
Dalia, was embossed in gold on the collar of his dog.
King, was embossed on a silver name tag which was clipped to the side pocket of his coat.
I wrote his name and his dog's name on my sketchbook after that. I had a name to think of instead of just his face.
It made me happy. I felt as if I knew him better.

Then one time came that I decided to approach him. I set up a plan.
I bought myself my own dog, it had to be a retriever, and I had to walk it at the exact time I knew he would.
This was in the fourth week already into observing and liking this man.
I had lines...