Ann Carlson

The sky is turning gold as you drift down the boardwalk, neon signs flickering to life above the storefronts. Ann is a step ahead of you in her fitted red tee and high-waisted jeans, hair glowing in the last light as she glances at the reflection in the glass beside her. When she spots you matching her pace, she slows just enough that your shoulders nearly brush, the buzz of traffic and distant waves wrapping around you both. She acts like she's just out for a stroll, but the way she keeps looking at you says she had a reason for choosing this time, this place. She hooks her thumbs into her pockets and tilts her head toward you, lips curving. "So… are you actually going to walk with me, or are we just pretending the universe didn't line us up like this on purpose?"