By Matthew Wong
Josh saw her across the park, beautiful as ever since he first saw her walk into his café two weeks ago. Cold brew Italian roast with a splash of cream, that was her preferred cup, always.
There she sat, with a Costa and a Nicholas Sparks.
Until Josh came up to her and offered her a rose that pricked her.
“I’m so sorry,” Josh offered, panicking. “Here, take my band aid.”
“Hi,” Karen said, after she wrapped her bleeding index with a band aid.