In an alternate world I wouldn’t be travelling across the world alone thinking of another. In an alternate world we’d be arm in arm sipping wine and giggling uncontrollably while the world passes inexorably by. When you don’t let what had to be, what shouldn’t happens and you are powerless to stop it. When the universe observes you incapable of taking the very thing that belongs to you it ceases to give you anything easy.
We were served each other on a platter.
Spoon and knife and fork adorned and lit.
And we passed.