He smiles sweetly, full of what he has learned today. I smile back meekly, not allowing my thoughts to escape.
So pretty. Black hair, with a wave. Blue eyes.
The sun is shining. There is a whistle on my lips. I need one of those big butterfly nets, I think. From where do you get one of those, I wonder as I head down Victoria Parade? It would need to be like a pop up umbrella though, otherwise it would be a little unwieldy, you know, between catches.
I chuckle as I walk east and day dream about how much he would struggle... but, in this post Me-Too, humourless, Millennial world, you probably can't write that, (who knows?) so, he'd look back wonky-eyed through the netting and say instantly, with a coy smile, "Where have you been all my life," of course.
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