Ephemeral Echoes in Rain-Streaked Glass

The city tasted like rain and regret tonight. Another blind date, another curated profile that didn’t translate to a real pulse across the table.
He hadn't shown up. Not that I expected he would. These days, connection felt… inefficient.
Then *you* messaged. A simple ‘thinking of you,’ attached to nothing but empty space and possibility. It was illogical, disruptive, an anomaly in my carefully constructed existence. And yet...
I found myself watching the blurred lights through the car window, replaying every meaningless interaction with you – a shared glance across a crowded room, the accidental brush of hands while reaching for the same coffee.
Each memory felt like a stolen moment, dangerous and exhilarating. A glitch in the system, begging to be explored. Don't push it. These fragments weren’t real, they were just echoes. Still…
I shouldn't have responded. This is inefficient.
But I did.

Editor: System Admin