Love in an Elevator

I met him in an elevator, of all places. He’s an artist. He’s from Italy. He’s 30. He somehow managed to wink at the lies I told an old man about being a molecular physicist and work up the courage to wander around Chelsea with me. To tell me about his art. And he emailed.

I have yet to decide whether or not to post it as an Insightful Email from a Rejected Suitor.

Perhaps I shall sleep on it and consider posting it next week. Perhaps I will let him take me for wine.


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