Even though the woman led, it was the man Sarah noticed first. Confidant in a bodily way, he moved through the room as though the room moved for him. They took a window booth and Sarah took them in. The woman wore her beauty the way a tree accepts its rings. The man smiled slowly and admired with careful eyes. They talked, he gestured and rummaged at the base of the woman’s stone countenance while she threw him withered looks like scraps. Sarah could tell there was no clue. It’s weird, she thought, normally it’s the guy who’s oblivious.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.