She was a girl he could love. He was nearly home when he spotted her again. It was like she was looking for something, someone, somewhere. He almost ...topped her, almost asked her if she needed help. But he just walked by. He let her wander the streets alone and lost. She was just as beautiful now as she was then. Her wavy hair fell past her face, hints of bronze glinted across her brow like streaks of sunlight. She was shorter than he remembered, but her legs were shapely and wound their way. He walked through the aisles of a new store, well, new to him anyway. He'd rarely come to this part of town and had never seen this particular store. It was an antiquarian bookstore, full of the rich aroma of paper with lots of nooks and crannies in the confused floor plan. He been browsing for about an hour when he came across a small alcove surrounded by bookshelves that reached the ceiling. A small, padded bench with a high back was in the middle of the area, which housed self-improvement. More

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