Hindsight Hindrance

They walked that bridge overlooking the City’s high-rise digs, opulent buildings whose interiors they would never afford to claim. And their first date fusion full of awkward bravado and spatial courtesies, with the occasional forearm friction, as they matched hopscotch strides. An eyelash landed on her smile-chunked cheek. He put oil-slick fingertip to eye-moistened lash, closing his eyes and blowing beer beaten breath as the DNA follicle flew into the August air. And he wished to himself, “In five years’ time, we will be more than fine, with matching rings and all past stings behind us.”