A Chance Encounter: Chapter 3

He looked in the mirror and smirked;
Messed up hair, 2-day stubble,
And Annie smiled anyway.
He started to shave.

Stubble was fine when he saw Natalie;
No good impression necessary.
Her thoughts were hers,
He didn’t care.

Maybe he should start a group:
VON: Victims of Natalie
They could meet for coffee and
Talk about their collective horrors.

Or maybe, SON: Survivors of Natalie
Same thing: discuss horror stories
But with a twist:
They all survived it!

He smirked again.
If anybody had told him six months ago
That he would be able to say “Natalie” and laugh
In the same breath, he would have argued the point.

Maybe he should call Jeff,
They could be co-founders of the group,
Pick a coffee shop; plan the “meetings”,
Maybe they would need to rent a hall. Another smirk.

Back to the topic of the day: Annie.
Shave, then cologne—women love that.
Comb the hair with a brush, not Annie’s gentle fingers.
Gotta go, it’s almost noon.

Heading down the hall, hurrying towards Annie,
Mrs. Thompson stops him in his tracks.
“Seth, dear, can you feed my cats while I’m out of town?”
Affirmative nod, gotta go.

Not so quickly, dear boy.
“Come inside, I need to show you
Where the litter box is
And how to mix the cat food.” Mix? You’ve got to be kidding.

Finally, out on the street.
Five after twelve.
Hope she’s still waiting.
Don’t want to think about if she’s not.