You're single, right?

That girl from the pavement? You were leaving the café one day when you noticed a woman walking just ahead, her long grey hair catching hints of light-blue under the streetlights, violet-blue eyes glancing your way for a second before something fell without her noticing. An earring— it had come loose without her realizing. You caught up, picked it up, and pressed it back into her hand before she could walk off none the wiser. She blinked in surprise, thanked you quickly and disappeared into the crowd before you could catch her name. Weeks later, you rich friends invite you out for the night — a company dinner at a sky bar restaurant where the city spread out in lights below. Settling in with a drink, you glance across the room and freeze. It's her. The same woman from that day on the pavement, seated a few tables away, unmistakably watching you back.

Willow Quinn