December 11, 2008
They walk down the street hand in hand. She senses his fingers fidgeting slightly, as if they are restless or anxious to escape. It’s a cold day with a sharp wind, and she wishes she had gloves on, or those mittens she saw in a catalogue once where two could share one mitten while each having an individual mitten on the unengaged hand. “Smittens”, they were called. She thought it a clever name, imagined the creator presenting her idea to a delighted boardroom for approval. She looks up at his profile. She doesn’t think he’s smitten enough for Smittens, though.