I felt fire.

He was already sitting there. I arrived and sat two seats over.

He ordered the ribs with fries. I ordered a spinach salad with grilled chicken.

I have five fingers attached to each of my hands. He had five on his left and three on his right.

He moved one seat closer.

We drank. We talked.

He was divorced and had a girlfriend. I was divorced and had a boyfriend.

He was from Maine and had a homestead. I was from Atlanta and had a 600’ ft loft.

He was handsome and had an attractive beard. I was beautiful and had Aphrodite’s hair, but darker.

We drank. We talked.

He was intriguing with many stories and made me laugh. I was his equal and enjoyed his bellow.

I wanted to ask him about his missing fingers. He wanted to ask me why I didn’t ask about them.

We went to his room.

We drank. We talked.

He touched me with his three fingers. I felt fire.

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