https://drive.google.com/open?id=1SL6YFjxTcEcWrBIqII59vnEkhrPpowJ1 That might be her

That might be her. She looks nervous enough, but she doesn’t look at me. She is asking the barman -What time might it be? And she looks casual about it. Is she testing me?

I don’t know. I never do. Love is in my blind spot. Help me. Please make a move on me.

She looks at me half a blink of an eye, but I think it is her. I look away, I don’t know why. I sip my beer, try to look cool, and I regret it right that second. Will she walk out on me?

I don’t know. I never do. Love is in my blind spot. Help me. Please make a move on me.

She walks like me. As she heads for the door, she is a stranger to the floor. Hope she doesn’t mind me writing all those things on my site; Your looks were too good and frightening; I didn’t quite know what to say.

Didn’t know. I never do. Love is in my blind spot. Help me. Please make a move on me.