Something about her

Still tongue-tied his thoughts,

Tossed his emotions into a mayhem of desire.

She hijacked his dreams with unspeakable truths,

Set his body ablaze through the ether,

Sentenced him to shuddering, shameful awakenings.

Unabashed,

She jammed his frequencies, sang along to his favourite songs,

Shimmied in the dusty notes of a stranger’s perfume.

Now, grief-weary, he caved.

Study.

Top shelf.

Third book from the right.

He reached for the leatherbound copy of War and Peace.

Her photograph tumbled to the ground.

He stooped, knees creaking.

Her smile. Shy but knowing.

He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

Holding his breath as, in half a second, decades rewound.

“Foster?” she said. “Is it really you?”