She was a cyclist, pedalling down past the old fashioned shops on a metallic blue bicycle.
Her hair flew behind her like a wild yet beautiful horse's mane, with faintly familiar brunette strands.
An old name, gathering dust in my memory, sprang to mind.
As we overtook her in our car she turned to her right, just for a heartbeat, but long enough for my mind's jaw to drop.
For she was the owner of that dusty name, except she was gleaming.
A lost gem.
And as quickly as she had reentered my life, she faded away again into the distance.
((inspired by the prompt; the unexpected return of a distant memory))
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