As he walked down Southampton Row he came across a quaint Italian restaurant. Cutlery and napkins had been laid out in anticipation for the evening’s patrons. “Perhaps I should have told her here. Maybe things would have ended…differently”

Then he saw himself in the reflection. Traffic continued on behind. The wind began to pick up and the cold crept across his back.

One shouldn’t dwell on these things. It was time to move on.

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