Outside rain pours onto a city dissolved into night.
Inside, the diner is garish with comforting colours; I smell coffee, fried food and damp clothes. I gather my things.
At this despairing hour, there is music, but little chatter. I should go, taking and leaving loneliness.
I should go, returning to my world; rejecting yours.
You catch my hand.
I should go. I should not look into your eyes. But I do. Through my tears, I see your tears. I am lost. Lost in love for you. Lost mapless at a crossroads.
Your hand holds mine.
I do not leave.
Words and photograph copyright 2017 by Paula Harmon. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission