She stood there, in her blue top and cute goth-like skirt. Her boots were of vinyl black. She had groceries, two bags, and in one of them, I was sure, was a book of the "Best Australian Dating Spots". How I knew? She came to the store not 30 minutes ago, to buy that particular one. She was a striking lady, perhaps near my age somewhere. She smiled when I smiled, declined my help when I offered it. And when she left the store, she gave me a shy grin and waved goodbye.
Not many pple wave goodbye. She did.
Then she left the store, and I thought forever.
Work came to a close and I wandered to the centre entrance, waiting for my dad. He was late. And I waited. And I waited. And I saw her. In that blue top. That black skirt. Those boots. She was fumbling with her groceries and the light struck her, making her suddenly radiant.
I decided to talk to her. Make that small talk I was sometimes known for.
I walked one, two, three steps. Nearer and nearer. That ready, somewhat-natural smile nervously gracing my lips. I opened my mouth in a greeting.

Then the boyfriend came, they kissed and walked away.