The color of your eyes

For the second hour in a row Architect stared out of the window. To the left, a little bit behind the corner yet still visible, was park. Not for a long week-end walks, he had better places for that purpose, but the usual lonely evenings park. For some reason people called it a paradise. Actually with a capital letter - Paradise. So let it be Paradise. Down below was an ocean. Only he one's that knew were aware that it was filled out of tears. The happy tears and the sad ones. Although, as the Architect was quite humble, he let the ocean to be cleaned once in a week, leaving behind only happy tears. Out of a blue, even Architect, was surprised, the goldfish moved i and decided to stay. That's when the Architect knew the ocean needs to be cleaned, as when goldfish started to turned grey. Out of the window looking right we see nothing. Architects keeps it under wraps and we are not even sure he himself knows what's in there.

Today was not the usual day. Today the puzzle out of so many pieces had to be compiled that even Architect had to think. He was writing a story compiling everything possible and impossible. He had even chosen the lead roles. First probability and ruling out. Then creativity and while charting something in his drawing table, the little devilish sparks emerged in his eyes. And then, when there was only four candidates left, he tossed his dice. The final chosen ones had to have the luck.

And luck they indeed have had. They had fought, sometimes fallen but by the end of the day not lost a case. The man was the successful cover boy politician for a twisted yet dynamic country. Successful and self-confident, rich and ironic. The woman was lawyer, specializing on mergers and acquisitions, a little spoiled and used to get what she wanted. Just like the man. The different nationalities made everything even more fun. As adding the distance and families. And why not rivalry but that part Architect will have to figure out yet. The story was supposed to be his amusement on prime time between 5.13-5.18. He'll see how good they'll be.

Architect grinned and put away the ancient black ballpoint pen. One of the most complicated stories could begin. It was time to pull the final straw by creating their meeting point. And GO!