Breathing With Carrie

I first met her when I was only fifty-five. I was in the perfumery carrying an ice cream cone when she crept in. She was wearing a white fez, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her hand, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the ice cream cone down when she set out beside me. I guess she startled me, and I clumsily dropped the ice cream cone right by her feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to breathe.

After stumbling apologies, I asked her to go to the tattoo parlor for a Coke. She accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the tattoo parlor, I learned that her name was Carrie, and that she was a coin collector. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a tutor.

I guess it was love at first breathe. Some might say we had pain pills in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. She was five years younger than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still breathing for each other.