Just as you take my hand
Just as you write my number down
Just as the drinks arrive
Just as they play your favourite song

It's all in the fine detail.  Perfect moments can't be relied upon to happen.  Sometimes a little planning goes a long way. Bit by bit, inch by inch, I've been laying the ground, honing the story, tailoring the seams, engineering the people to ensure they decide what they were meant to decide.  Sometimes, I amaze myself at my ability to fashion a perfect me-shaped space to climb through and disappear off the map.  I get my jigsaw out and cut a nuanced shape that fits tight around my outline.  It's like one of those optical illusions: is it a white vase or two silhouetted faces in profile?  You see what I want you to see.

And now I wait.

In the bar. Mine's a bourbon and ice I think. Good journey? Do you want to use the room and meet me back here for dinner? Or will your hunger be sated in other ways. Good things come to those who wait. Let's wait a little longer. Revel in the anticipation. Because it will happen now.

I get so little time to myself.  And when I do no words appear.  But she's never far from my thoughts. To share the same space. Finally. To see and hear. And touch. Feel her breath upon my face. Her lips brushing mine. Her tongue teasing. Two can play at that game, Bardot.

The jointly written tale awaits a finale, a climax.  Will it be written now or in 23 days?