This morning, you smiled at me while your headphones tangled with your blue scarf as we both stood swaying on a crowded L. I got off at 1st Ave and almost turned back—let’s untangle this missed connection together.
This morning, you smiled at me while your headphones tangled with your blue scarf as we both stood swaying on a crowded L. I got off at 1st Ave and almost turned back—let’s untangle this missed connection together.
You were the person with the sunflower tote bag who smiled at me across the crowded Q train near Union Square. I was the one nervously dropping my coffee, wishing I had the nerve to say hi before you got off at 57th Street.
We both reached for the last everything bagel at that Park Slope deli. You let me have it and joked that destiny was in carbs, but I froze and missed my chance to ask for your number. If you see this, maybe we can split a bagel next time?
It was pouring and my umbrella flipped inside out just as you offered yours outside Grand Central. I laughed, you laughed, then you ran for your train before I could even say thank you—or ask your name.
You were the person with the sunflower tote bag who smiled at me across the crowded Q train near Union Square. I was the one nervously dropping my coffee, wishing I had the nerve to say hi before you got off at 57th Street.
We both reached for the last everything bagel at that Park Slope deli. You let me have it and joked that destiny was in carbs, but I froze and missed my chance to ask for your number. If you see this, maybe we can split a bagel next time?
It was pouring and my umbrella flipped inside out just as you offered yours outside Grand Central. I laughed, you laughed, then you ran for your train before I could even say thank you—or ask your name.
You were the person with the sunflower tote bag who smiled at me across the crowded Q train near Union Square. I was the one nervously dropping my coffee, wishing I had the nerve to say hi before you got off at 57th Street.
We both reached for the last everything bagel at that Park Slope deli. You let me have it and joked that destiny was in carbs, but I froze and missed my chance to ask for your number. If you see this, maybe we can split a bagel next time?
It was pouring and my umbrella flipped inside out just as you offered yours outside Grand Central. I laughed, you laughed, then you ran for your train before I could even say thank you—or ask your name.
You were the person with the sunflower tote bag who smiled at me across the crowded Q train near Union Square. I was the one nervously dropping my coffee, wishing I had the nerve to say hi before you got off at 57th Street.
