Every month she attended a networking event at the library. The organiser asked after her cats. She asked after his dog.
They didn’t know each other’s names.
Every week she bought a bunch of flowers from the gaunt man with the greying hair. He knew she loved alstroemerias. She knew he liked exact change.
They didn’t know each other’s names.
Every day she ordered an oat latte from the independent coffee shop. They started making it when they saw her approaching.
“Can I have a mocha please?”
He paused. Raised an eyebrow.
She smiled. Held out her hand.
“I’m Amy.”
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