I walk past most days and often when I look through the window she is there.
Sometimes she is behind the till, but sometimes she is right at the window, dipping strawberries in chocolate. It's an upmarket chocolate shop, let's be clear; it's not a newsagent, it's not like she's selling Curly Wurlys.
The other day we made eye contact, through the window, there was no reaction on her part, there was no reason there should be, I'm just one of a million faces walking past. But fleetingly, her dark eyes locked on mine and I felt a chill.
Once upon a morning, coming out of the tube, I was walking behind a girl in the street who struck me by her style and confident walk. I lost her in the crowd then saw her again as we neared the shop and I thought, 'Of course, it's her' and, of course, it was her.
I should go in and buy something. I should go in and make conversation. I should... but the thing is that I don't really like chocolate. Maybe I could go in and ask for strawberries without chocolate. Maybe better to just leave it a while and play hard to get.
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