L’entracte

They noticed each other during intermission. They looked at each other and wondered when and where they had met before—this made them appear both thoughtful and amused as they walked toward each other, skirting around a group, without breaking eye contact.

She said to him, “I can’t remember . . .”

And he, “Me neither.”

Smiles, then they each looked away, thinking regretfully, “That’s all.”

“Maybe at another concert . . .” he said.

She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”

He stepped closer to her to let someone pass behind him. She didn’t move when his arm touched hers, and when he stepped away again she lowered her eyes; she felt warm.

“The second part, I don’t know if you . . .” He paused. “I mean, we don’t have to . . .”

“What are you suggesting?” she replied boldly.

“Let’s leave, go for a walk. It’s stifling in here.”

“Okay.”

He turned toward the exit and she followed him.

Want to read more?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.