And still I wait. I hear muted conversations, laughter. You mail me, thinking I’m sat at my desk. I mail back innocently, knowing you’re in for a ...hock soon. You cross your legs and for a split second I see the flesh above the tops of your stockings and the purple flash of your panties as your legs part and close. Your shoes are inches from my hands. I tentatively reach forward and touch your ankles with the tips of my fingers. Your legs instantly jerk away before the realisation of what is. Watching the sports talk show on the big screen and making small talk with the other guest and bartender. That’s when he looked up to see her reflection. She was standing right behind him. He had on several occasions thought he’d seen her in a crowd or passing on the road. But he knew it was always just wishful thinking. Then the scent of her perfume floated to him. He smiled at her in the mirror and pulled out the vacant bar stool next to him. She sat without a word. The bartender asked her. More

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