17 2012

to lose ten pounds, or a homeless man snoring on one of the wrought-iron memorial benches,Monty would delight in making their acquaintance by jumping next to them and waking them up, or blocking their path and slobbering all over their shoes. One morning I was the victim of Monty’s excitement: my heart pounded as he rushed towards me, salivating tongue flapping out between two sharp yellow teeth and, after a near collision and a thorough drool, an apologetic Imogen grabbed at his collar and pulled him away. I remember she caught my eye and smiled her beautiful smile. I guess I’m grateful that Monty brought us together like that but I stopped walking there in the morning; I’m not very fond of dogs. On the day of the theatre, we had walked around Brooklyn, awkwardly browsing in furniture stores where I spent most of the time avoiding shop assistants overly keen to assist me in some way. After having feigned interest in a number of couches and tacky coffee tables, I left Imogen to it. I peered into the front window every so often and kept busy by looking at the property brochures in the front window of an estate agent across the street. In the reflection of the glass I saw her step out of the store, and, dodging the traffic to catch up, we continued on down the street towards our regular afternoon hangout, the Roebling Tea Room. Comfortably nestled in a pillowed corner I ordered a pot of tea, and Imogen an iced coffee, before falling into the regular routine of reading until any remaining tea was cold and the last cube of ice floating in the coffee had melted. When this time arrived, Imogen snapped shut her yellowing copy of Nineteen Eighty-Four and prepared to leave. I discreetly searched my pockets, fumbling for the correct change for my tea, and paid the check that had been sitting on the table for over forty minutes. The heavy oak door that was normally invitingly propped open was closed to keep out the cold winter air, and on the back of it, often unnoticed, were a number of adverts for local gigs and events. Imogen lingered behind it, reading, before pulling it ajar and allowing a wall of

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