All around town every day, even on the crowded train, never far away, he follows her and she knows it. Over to the street where the affordable lunch places are teeming with middle income people he stays cautiously behind her, eating at a sidewalk table in front of the place next door. To a sad bar at night where they sit alone together across the room, trying not to be obvious. Rainy days or sunny, cold, windy or warm she can always catch a glimpse of him, he never loses sight of her, the sound of footsteps softly in slow pursuit. They love each other by now, though they've never met, and even though only one of them is real and neither can remember which.
Hello, friends. I trust you're well.
Later. Love.
