Local grocery store. You were the cashier with lavender locks and lovely red nails. I was the hapless customer (wearing a golden beanie with a brown leaf) whose hand you briefly touched, when we both reached for the bread. I merely wanted to say I loved your aesthetic, but the hand touch and brief eye contact made me quite flustered.

It’s been some time now, but I still think of that moment every time I walk past the store. I don’t expect you to remember me, since you must get so many customers a day. I just wish I’d been able to say “Hey, I like your hair,” but alas.

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