The Gift

Both engrossed, intently concentrating. He, juggling mic, guitar, and amp. She, balancing a tray of empties. Inevitably, they collide. Mumbling apologies, both drop to the floor to clean up the broken glass. Reaching for the last shard, their hands touch. Their eyes shyly glance. Gasping as one. Joyfully giggling, speaking together:

“You’re Bobby; I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Julianna? I’ve been searching for you!”

“Do you remember me? Us? How? Why?”

She, suddenly serious: “Are we allowed to remember?”

He, eyes twinkling: “Don’t know, but I’m not questioning any magic the universe sends.”

 

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