Sunday, 18 December 2016


They met in the aisle between the lentils and the tomato puree. It was a chance encounter; nothing had been planned. The look on her face when she saw him, almost shock, before it turned into a smile. They talked about the summer and how she had spent it. He tried not to react when she mentioned her husband, as she always did, as if she could only define herself in terms of her other half. Then she did something very strange indeed. She offered him her hand and asked him to touch the skin, to feel it. He rubbed his thumb along the edge of her index finger, trying to send a signal. Was that what she wanted, a signal, some kind of confirmation? When he looked at her she had turned her head away. She was blushing. He let go and the small talk continued for a minute before they parted. They were shopping for lunch things.

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