‘Shit!’ ‘Elizabeth,’ he thought. ‘Elizabeth might have it.’ He did have Elizabeth’s number, she’d been to dinner with Caron and Stan ...everal times before last November. ‘Elizabeth? It’s Stan.’ ‘Hello, Stan! What can I do for you?’ she replied into his ear. ‘Um… I was wondering, er, do you, um… Do you have Denise’s number?’ ‘Why, Stan, I thought you were phoning to ask about me,’ she teased. Stan could only stammer in response, before she let him off the hook. ‘Sorry, Stan, I don’t. I think. She had clearly thought about this for some time. Silence enveloped the two as they stood looking at each other, she searched his eyes for the answer and he stood with a dazed unfocused sort of look. For such a cunning linguist, the words failed to solidify. He continued walking and she shuffled along next to him, glancing over at him every so often quizzically as a light snow began to tumble silently to earth around them, making the scene all that more serene. A lone bench sat next to a tired. More

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