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.


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