Looks can Decieve

He wore an overcoat with a brown cravat and a shiny black pipe in his mouth. He smoked like a chimney. His looks gave nothing away: a wispy moustache, thick eyebrows and struck-out ears. A similiar liking to a tramp

His stern stare scared the witts from me. I was petrified to look at him, I uncomfortably shifted my gaze from him. Then suddenly the man bent down and took something from his oversized pockets.

My thoughts were running like a fast train: Was it a gun, knife? Was he going to harm or threaten me?

No, it was white, fresh tulips and he placed them on the grave in front of him. His tears glistened in the warm sunlight and fell from his cheek gracefully.

Its struck me "He is not a tramp but a fine gentleman whose loved one is in heaven"

I smiled at him as tears escaped my eyes continuously as I placed my flowers on my mother's grave.

Our eyes met as he nodded to me and walked away until his shadow disappeared in the horizon.