Coffee after Christmas shopping, that’s all. I took in your height, red-veined eyes and unstill, cracked lips. You, a stranger with creased features under a beanie hat. Wired, grey frizz escaped beneath the precise hand-knitted stitches. Evidently, someone cared for you. Your low-slung jowls hung down, wrapped below your scarf.
The moist heat of the café, amplified by nerves and anger, mottled my cheeks. I smiled deceitfully, this was a mad idea. I cursed my incessant curiosity, I should have resisted. Then, I saw your strong, slender hands, the spit of mine, 'Where have you been? Is there still time?'
The moist heat of the café, amplified by nerves and anger, mottled my cheeks. I smiled deceitfully, this was a mad idea. I cursed my incessant curiosity, I should have resisted. Then, I saw your strong, slender hands, the spit of mine, 'Where have you been? Is there still time?'
