nottinghill...

...was unfamiliar territory to me. it was disconcerting looking at the shops blend into a technicoloured blur as i whizzed past. i hadnt a clue how long the journey would be a began panicking about how late i was...

...and yet i could feel my nipples hardening, ah, my nose had caught the whiff of tarmac; i giggled.

what? tarmac? heaven knows why but the smell excites me. same with cordite. i wasnt dragged up in a military, road laying/roofing or firework family. there is no dark secret of tot trains pulled on guy fawkes or fancying an itinerant labourer. actually the last bits not strictly true but its a story for another day.

i arrived latish, slipped my date a little tongue as i took his arm. it was going to be a fun night.

catching up on the latest fb tale i glanced around. the man walking towards us was your doppelganger. he/you looked grumpy but beautiful. i hiccuped with surprise and watched as the man stomped past.

my aunt silvie ad that and it went septic; the accent was perfect, laughing i turned back to you and pulled your head in for a kiss.

it didnt matter who the man was, the idea of meeting so randomly made me smile. i texted you later saying just that. letting you know it was enough...