Daily story, July 9, 2025

I was starting to fear I would never see you again, so I made a plan. I put on a stone, mismatched shoes, and a faintly sexist t-shirt. I carried a bag from that shop you rightly swore you’d never go back to, and another, transparent, with a tube of pile cream on display. I didn’t wash or shave. I went out on the street. Sure enough, the moment I cracked the seal on my Special Brew, you came around the corner. You waved, and smiled, and asked me to lunch.