What Are the Chances?

chances, romance, Boston night, PixabayI scrutinized the man under veiled eyes. My long dark eyelashes were one of my vanities, and in times like these they came in useful. (The Exit Door)

Since when did I follow a complete stranger ( I wondered – what’s an incomplete stranger?) out of a social setting where I knew at least half the participants, toward a “wonderful café” he suggested?

“George,” the blue-jeaned “complete” stranger said as if reading my mind. And no, I don’t do this often.” Continue reading

Exit Door

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:S.Emergencia.pngOnce again, I wonder why I’m here, where the exit door is, and how quickly I can excuse myself. I know that Karen means well, but Karen is not the good friend she thinks she is. If she really knew me – Mandy Shepherd, the introvert –  really cared about me, she’d keep me away from this kind of “meetngreet” fiasco. Continue reading