If you are thinking this is how I met the girl of my dreams you will be disappointed. I was sitting in Cafe Paris right across the street from Library of Greenich, people were hurrying across the square returning home or going to their odd evening jobs all too busy to notice a tiny young man sitting in the mahogany chair across plate full of Nanny’s chicken pri-pri burger and fries with tomato ketchup. The early summer evening and the busy street made me want to paint a colorful picture of the vibrant life that Greenich held in its heart. Thinking to myself I was chewing the first bite of my chicken burger when I saw her step out of the library. She took out a cigarette from her tiny dark blue clutch, lit it and took a puff. She was looking at people and then at the sky and the pebble street as she smoked. The wind was playing with her green lacy dress and she was smiling as if she knew that half the men stole a look at her before they hurried across the streets. I had stopped eating and I was lost in her mesmerizing but bizarre beauty.

Suddenly she turned towards me and her dark black eyes narrowed, oh God I was exposed! I turned back to my burger just to look in her direction a few moments later and she stepped down the pebble street onto the main road, holding her hand out signaling the cars to slow down so she can cross the street. I buried half the burger inside my mouth in a hurry and tried to look busy but it was not helping anymore. She walked towards me with a mischievous smile still smoking.

“Is this seat taken?” She beamed at me.

I am sure I stared at her few seconds before I answered, “No.”

She set across the table looking at me like she was trying to measure what kind of guy I was. “I am sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” I blubbered attempting to not be judged as a lecherous man. To which she laughed and asked, “Man? What are you? 20?”

I blushed. “I am Rohan. I am 21. You?”

Her face became serious all of a sudden and she whispered, “Shhh, I am Anastasia. You can call me Ann. And you mustn’t be asking a woman’s age!”

“How else am I to know your age?” I inquired.

“You can look up the writer’s database in the Greenich Library.” She laughed again, her laugh was beautiful like booming roses on a sunny morning. “You here to study?”

“No. I am but a traveler. It’s my last day in this city.”

She took a fry from my dish and turned away, looking at the busy street,”So, how do you like my city? Found anything special?” She asked.

“I loved The Knight Museum and the Church. People here are quite busy and polite.”

“Hmmm, boy If you call yourself a traveler you should know that visiting a city museum doesn’t count.  A city is like a woman, you have to explore it one step at a time.” She took out another cigarette from her purse, “do you mind?” She looked at me with questioning eyes.”I don’t like women that smoke.” I said.  She sighed before she lit her cigarette almost ignoring my hatred, “What a pity.”

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