Deciding that she had some time to spare, she skipped across the road towards me. She came into the coffee bar and went up to the counter. "Slim latte..." she said, chirpily to the guy behind the counter. "Thanks."I drew in my breath and decided to trust my judgement. "Hi, Kelly," I called. "Want to join me?"She looked puzzled but came across to my table anyway. "Have we met?" she said."Sure," I said. "I came by your office last week."She stared at me hard, right in the eyes. She put her coffee. "Kelly, I want you to know that as far as I'm concerned you're perfect. But, and this is the crucial point, certain things are so perfect, that they cry out to be shared with others. Imagine if there was only one record of, say Beethoven's Fifth, and I had it. I would have to play it to someone else so that they would also know that it is a masterpiece."I'm not sure what you're driving at." It's simple really, Kelly. I think it would be very sad if I were the only person to know how good you. More

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