Matched Set

November 12th, 2012

They sat there, for a long time, equipoised across the booth from one another.

It wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t the fiftieth. They already knew each other’s secrets and best stories.

She was someone with a lot of capability. People remarked on her “potential.” It had become a thing, remarking on it — and then its time had passed. She wondered, now, how much ability she really had. Not capacity to maybe do something, but the genuine ability to pull it off. She though that she ought to know that by now.

He was known for his foresight. People valued his advice. But time had told that he wasn’t so good at looking ahead for the pitfalls in his own life.

Once upon a time, he had made her a mixtape. He burned it to disk, but that’s what is was: a mixtape like the ones he had made for the girls back in high school. He had even included “A Forest.” It fit into the flow of the songs, but it was really there for old times’ sake.

She was only vaguely old enough to know what mixtapes were about. But she had been flattered, and they had made love sweetly afterward.

He looked into the gleaming, clean surface of the table, and he could see the reflection of her face. He had fallen so hard for her the first time he had seen her.

They ordered, they made small talk, they looked out the window at the parking lot.

Then they fell on their breakfasts, voracious.

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