Conversations With John (Part 3)

I was about to get into my car when I felt his hand on my arm.  I turned and looked at him with curiosity.

He didn’t speak and we stood looking at each other for a moment.  He had sunglasses on, and his dark hair cascaded around his face.  I always did have a thing for long hair, I thought.

It was then that we both realized he still had his hand on my arm and we looked at it resting there before he withdrew it.

I looked back at his face.

“It’s okay,” I said.  “This is just weird.  I just thought…”

“Yes,” he said.  “I know what you mean.”

I nodded.

“It’s just that…” I started to say, but he put a finger up to my lips and I fell silent.

“I have never gone after anyone before like this,” he said.

I nodded.

“I don’t even know why I did,” he said.

I nodded again.

“Come back inside,” he said quietly, looking up at the moon.  It had been full a week ago.

He turned and walked toward the lounge, and I followed, hesitating for a moment for the first time in a long time.

As if sensing it he turned around.

“You started this,” he said.

I smiled at him.

“I always do,” I said.


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