He was walking down Aleksandri street when he caught a glimpse of something that looked like a small animal lying there on the roadside. A kitten, perhaps? Hit by a car? No, that couldn't have been - it wasn't the season for kittens. He took a closer look, because it felt important, almost urgent that he did.
It was a mitten. A single mitten fallen off someones right hand, fallen right down onto the street. No - it couldn't have fallen off, such a warm-looking thing must have been missed if it had fallen off someones hand. It must have been lost from a pocket or a bag.
That day something changed inside that young man. He felt almost as if he.. no, this cannot be! It's impossible! But it had happened. He loved. He was in love with someone he hadn't even met, but he guessed the person must be as warm inside as that mitten off her right hand.
He started walking down that street at least once a day, looking at peoples hands, hoping he'd see someone walking walking past with just one mitten on. It was a thin chance, I'm sure you'd agree. That didn't stop him, though. He felt as if half of him was missing and he was carrying the reason for it around with him in his bag.
Simply the mitten would never complete him.
She was walking home down Aleksandri street. It was late, but she was in no particular hurry. Besides the weather had gone warmer over those few hours she had spent at her friends place, so she decided to take the most of the walk. It was dark outside, too, and she should have been scared, but nothing was ever going to happen to her, nothing bad, that's what she'd always believed. "It all comes down to your thinking," she used to say. She shoved her hand inside her bag hnging behind her back to pull out a cigarette and matches, she lit one, inhaled deeply, blew the smoke out, threw the cigarette away and said to herself: "so how many times have you proved to yourself, little girl, that you don't like smoking? Never should have started."
"Oh no, it's gone!" Her bag dropped on the floor. That night she didn't sleep too well.
From now on she took that street every day, the lonely mitten in her bag. She knew,there was something coming. Although her hands were cold, she refused to get another warm pair.
One day she knew, what had to be done and as she was walking down that street, wearing just one mitten, someone slid a woolly hand into hers and slowed down to her pace, breathing heavily. She now felt butterflies and knew she won't have to feel the cold any more.
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