• Jason D Geary


I can feel it, deep, as soon as she walks into the room. I’ve been waiting for her to arrive. The door opens and snow drifts in after her. She closes the weather out and as she turns she lifts her scarf over her head and shakes the snow out of her hair. The scarf lifts her hair and lets it cascade onto her shoulders like a shampoo advertisement. Perfect. I sit in the corner half listening to a friend, and count the seconds before our eyes meet.


She started scanning the room as soon as her scarf came off. She spotted me and looked away, nonchalant, so the casual onlooker would never know. Her subtle smile betrays her. A s does mine. Keen eyes would see, however, here, know one is really looking. She takes her jacket off and heads over to the bar. I excuse myself and cut a straight line across the room.

We meet at the bar and I feel her lean into me as we perch. Soft, but deliberate. I feel every hair on my body stand on end. Yes. This is something.

I don’t need the confirmation, but I am curious. Her hand rests on the bar. She orders red wine, I follow suit and place my hand on the bar next to hers. The barman disappears to get our drinks and we are as alone as we will be all night. I look at her and smile. She smiles back. Soft. Gentle.

Without moving my hand I extend my pinky finger towards her. An invitation. She reciprocates, and as our fingers touch a tiny blue spark leaps from one to the other. A spark. Yes.



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