She rode away smile
What a good day
You came to say hi —
Just that. Just hi.
Like the word had been waiting all day
For her voice to carry it.
We talked. Not much.
Enough for laughter to find the spaces
Between strangers and not-strangers.
Her big smile did most of the speaking,
Filling up the air so I didn’t notice
I was smiling back.
Then she was gone,
On a bike, hair catching wind,
One last glance over her shoulder —
That smile, again,
Tossed to me like something to keep.
The street felt quieter after.
But not empty.
She left the sound of her laugh
Hanging there,
And I’m still holding the echo.
Ayomide —
So that’s what I call the smile now.
Ayomide, who came to say hi
Like it was nothing,
Like she wasn’t rewriting my whole afternoon
With a few words and that big, fearless grin.
We talked.
Small things. The kind you forget later,
Except you don’t.
Because laughter makes even nothing
Feel like something worth keeping.
Hers was gentle, but it landed heavy —
In the good way. The way that stays.
Then she left on a bike,
And I swear the street leaned a little
Just to watch her go.
One hand on the handlebar,
One wave,
One last Ayomide-sized smile
That I’m still carrying home.
I don’t know if paths cross twice.
I hope they do.
Because now the day has her name in it.
Ayomide —
It means “my joy has come,” they say.
And today, it did.
On a bike.
With a laugh.
And left me with a quiet I don’t mind keeping.
B