It was a rainy afternoon in London, pouring in fact. Underneath her umbrella, Julia walked hurriedly through the park, enjoying the crunch of wet autumn leaves beneath her shoes. She wore a beanie hat snuggly over her curly blonde hair, a tightly wrapped scarf, and had one hand in the pocket of her khaki parka jacket.
Up ahead of her were a group of young men outside of a football court. Looking up, she recognised one of them saying goodbye to the others, he stood out immediately. She had taught him a few years ago, Michael was his name. Popular and handsome, with his dark tousled hair and thoughtful expression he used to remind her of Lord Byron paintings. Since he was clever and always polite, he had been one of her favourite students. She doubted however, that he would recognise her and as she approached them, she kept over to the other side. He must now have been in his early twenties, but his poised bearing conveyed a maturity rare in boys his age. She was surprised to find herself rather attracted to him, despite being twenty years his senior. As his friends walked away, she smiled at him as she passed by.