email

963 38 1
                                    

I had lunch with Juan, and I explained to him the uninteresting details about my Friday night.

Trisha had mentioned she didn't mind me doing anything public, as long as it didn't impact what I did while working.

I didn't hear anything from Alexander.

Not Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday.

Thursday I applied to some evening classes concerning the basics regarding investments. It was Tuesday and Thursday night I was having classes. From seven to eight thirty.

It suited me just fine, and I would start the following Tuesday. There wouldn't be classes that Thursday.

I had a short day Friday.

And then the weekend awaited me.

I knew I needed a social life, but I'd been here a month, and how much of a social life did that provide you?

Juan and Trisha I talked to.

And sometimes I even talked to those in economy. It was a man and a woman, she was a graduate, and he was really good at what he did. The two others and Courtney? They were a lot older and had children and family, and Courtney just didn't like me.

I spent Friday night looking out my window on Manhattan.

Maybe I should respond Alexander? A sort of, yes I saw you mail?

I grabbed my phone from my coffee table and opened the mail he'd sent me. The one who read thank you for going with me last night.

I hesitated in forever.

Okay, I could do this.


Dear Alexander

Sorry the late answer.

Thank you for the dress, it's stunning!


He wrote his initials and then his last name, but because this wasn't a job related mail I didn't see any reason why I should be that formal.

I sent the mail and looked out on the city again.

Even alone there was something about New York City which I'd fallen for. Fallen hard.

Tomorrow, Saturday, I would get lost. It was surprisingly easy between the many people, but I wanted to see if I could find something new. Like the last time I got lost and found a giant button with a sewing needle.

What would I else be able to find?

And when I'd saved up enough money, I would start spending my weekends visiting other cities and experience something. That was one of my underlying motives.

I didn't feel like reading.

Food? Or more accurately, cake?

I didn't want to bake. And I still had that asshole who wanted my bag a little too close to wanting to walk around alone on a Friday night. To go out alone all other evenings was a start, right?

My phone vibrated in my hand.

I looked at it.


Dear Christina,

Good.

A. E. Greene


Talk about a cold mail. I wasn't quite sure what to do about it, or if should just let it be?

I was pretty sure I just let it be. What else would it help to try and start a conversation at this point?

The full stop after good? Who wrote mails like that?! No one made space in a mail if said mail consisted of one word.

It made so sense.

I changed into my pajamas and watched TV.

Miss DenmarkWhere stories live. Discover now