This is a really cute read. =]
You wear sneakers.
Not weird red ones, but black ones, with grey lining and dark heels, which blend against the black of your neatly pressed pants. You always seem to be immaculate – your shirt crisp, your tie straight, your shoes looking as new as they did two years ago. I think you really like those shoes. Maybe they’re lucky.
You like coffee. I rarely see you without a steaming cup from Starbucks in your hand while you sip it over The New York Times. I wonder if you put sugar in your coffee or if you like it black; I like my coffee with cream and two sugars, but I think I like it sweet because I’m a girl. You probably like it black. You always nod at me when you sit down – you must recognize me, as we’ve both taken the 8:30 to 16th St. Mission for…
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