A beautiful head of hair offered her a drink.
She had to drive home.

High cheekbones and a leather jacket asked her to dance.
She was never a good dancer.

Tall and lean made eyes from across the room.
She turned away.

Friendly and endearing made small talk on the stool next to her.
Weather.
Music.
Occupations.

“So, are you… in a relationship?”
She looked down at her hands.
A white line against bronze skin seared with absence.

“No,” finally,”not anymore.”