Drabble #72

Shoulders bump each other, objects tossed from hands onto the floor. Backs bent to collect belongings.
“Sorry abo-“

Eyes lock. It’s her! You’ve been waiting eons to see them again, to look directly into them and let its owner know they’ve hurt you. You deserve this opportunity, ached for it.

Your mind races, quickly turning to the woman you’re experiencing a first date with. You let her go, grabbing hold of your dates hand. You turn your back on the past just as she with you.


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