Even across the crowded bar,
our loneliness aligned.
She wrapped her long, red hair around her neck,
gave me a flirtatious grin and a cocky wink.
I cracked a sheepish smile.
We studied each other through the night.
After the last call, I approached her.
My words shook with anxiety.
Panic replaced my firm handshake.
My name blurred with a beat thumping through my chest.
She introduced herself as Hannah; her hands were small and soft.
Her skin fair skin beamed with the club lights
flashing through the sparkle in her green eyes.
We left and slipped into her car.
Hannah recounted her hopes of marrying next year.
I told her I’d wanted a house with a cute wife.
We built a connection, and three years later, Hannah said, “I do.”

(To anyone who likes this post, thank you so much. You’re my hero.)

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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