She was dressed in an oversized cobalt blue sweater and long print skirt. She hummed with the music playing on the store’s speakers. ‘Is this good...for a cold?’ I asked, holding up a bottle of ginseng, rose hips, and Vitamin C. ‘Are you sure it’s a cold that’s bothering you?’ Her voice was accented. One of the accents from the British Isles. Irish, perhaps. I wasn’t an expert. ‘No,’ I admitted. ‘You look pale,’ she said. She stood and walked toward me. ‘I can’t tell.’ ‘Tired.’ ‘Yes,’ I said.. ’ She glanced up to me as if resigning herself to a cozier zone of conversation. ‘It was a childhood friend and suddenly we were adolescents. We were together with other friends for a whole day on a family picnic and then at dusk, we found ourselves in a greenhouse and he held my arm, pulled me into a small dark room on the side, and kissed me. I had this weird feeling being a girl of about nineteen. I had good thoughts about this boy and he was paying some attention to me. That was good but I. More

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