She thanked Mrs.Lestridge at the door for the fruit basket and then started walking down the street. The weather was overcast pretty. There was not much buzz around, just the usual people strolling on a cool Wednesday morning lost in their own unconscious world. She turned a corner as the road converged downhill; glancing at the fruit basket in her hand she shook her head. Mrs.Lestridge had been far too insistent for her to accept a gift as a token of gratitude for how much better and fluent she had made her daughter in both French and English and that too just within 6 months of her starting the course. She wouldn't acknowledge the fact that her daughter is a quick learner and a brilliant student. It was mostly due to her daughter that she could teach her all that in 6 months. Someone else would have taken years.
Amidst the dusty and raw cobblestone clunking below her feet and the occasional chirping of birds, lost in her thoughts, she heard and recognized a soothing and charming voice. She right away knew whose it was, Old Bernard. She spotted him sitting on a stool in the midst of the pavement with his ever beautiful guitar in his hands playing a song. She walked towards him; a warm smile sprawled across her face.
"Hey Bernie" she said.



Will be continued.....
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