The First Time

Click here to read ‘The Last Time’

The first time I saw him, we were on the tram. My face was cold and covered up; my blue eyes peering through. He sat behind me, and we both turned to see a child running past the window. I smiled. He was suddenly standing, holding his books in one arm, and I brushed past him to leave. He saw me; his brown eyes met mine for just a second, and I stepped off the tram. That was the first time.

“Wouldn’t it have been lovely if we’d met before?”

(Inspired by Doctor Zhivago, 1965)

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About writingsuzanne

History graduate. Freelance writer and reviewer. Passionate about film, theatre and music (film soundtracks!).
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One Response to The First Time

  1. Pingback: The Last Time | Writing Suzanne

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