The Bench
“I just don’t know if I’m ready.” I said, lighting a cigarette.
“No-one likes to live with a smoker.” She grimaced. Waving the blue cloud away from her. “Moving in together is a big step. How do you if know she’s ready?” It started to rain.
“I’m a delight.” I coughed. “Except for the smoking.”
“And chatting up strange girls on a bench?” She laughed.
“And that.” I said, smiling. “I’m glad I ran into you.”
“Well, it’s time to pick up the keys.” She smiled. “I’m looking forward to you cooking our first meal in our new home.”
