He was seated directly across from me. A classic ‘light spring’, with his light-brown hair and blue eyes; he would look so good, if I could only get him out of that hideous beige t-shirt. But I hadn’t asked him here to do his colours.
‘You know when you came for lunch the other day…’ When it was just the two of us, and I cooked, and we chatted and laughed for hours despite having seen each other just a couple of days before… ‘…and you said you thought you recognised yourself in some of the blog posts? Well, did you never wonder why I might have written about you?!’
At this point my imagination fails me. But I’m sure of one thing; this conversation will never take place.