"Let's stay in touch," I offered.
"Yes," he said. "I'll call you when I have the wolf photos for you." He cleaned up our table, picked up the little pieces of notebook paper on the floor and hustled it all to the nearby trash receptacle by the exit doors. Again, I was struck by his politeness. "Bye," I said and walked over to the door to the ladies' restroom. "Bye," he said back, waving his hand and smiling. When I returned to the dining area where we had met, Andrew was gone. Will I ever see Andrew again?
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Musical Morphine:
Award Finalist in the "Health: Alternative Medicine" category of the 2017 Best Book Awards |