Over the flicker of candlelight and the clink of cutlery, the young man leaned towards his date.
He was already in love with her. Her face had launched a thousand ships from the harbour just 2 hours ago – she was the belle of the regatta after all. One murmur in her mellifluous voice and he would have laid his life for her.
He cleared his throat, and in his shyness, addressed the fork. “Tell me, tell me everything.”
The young woman looked puzzled, “Everything?”
“Yes, yes.” Said he, “I want you to be an open book, every page of which I want to read.” He was holding her hands in his, earnestly gazing into her pretty green eyes.
She took a deep breath, “Well, I was born in Colorado on 12th December, 1980 and then my mother wanted to come home 2 days later, but the doctors didn’t let her. Meanwhile, 5 people visited me on the first day…”
They were walking home and she was still talking, “And when I was 2, we moved into a loft…”
He was never again heard from.