Encounter
I saw you once. At Starbucks. You were staring down at your phone, held tightly in your hand, as you waited for your coffee. And I all dressed in black, observed you behind sunglasses and mentally laughed at the situation. At the ease with which I could walk right up to you if I so desired. It would be fun to see your face. I imagined a dozen ways that you'd react, two dozen things you might say, three dozen ways you'd end the curt exchange in an attempt to get away. Or maybe you wouldn't run. Maybe you'd stay. I wonder what I myself might say. "Hi, nice to see you, it's been a while." I certainly wouldn't say that I've missed you. I'd probably remark on your appearance and make light of the situation. It would be fascinating to hear what you'd say about mine. Hair straight, an Estee Lauder face, the nicest purse I've ever owned, a sleek black trench coat that feels like silk to the touch, a chenille scarf loyally wrappe...