They meet in the parking lot of the toy store. I’m married, he says. Me too, she says. And things progress illicitly. Until she sees his car.

They had spent a lovely weekend together. It’s too bad we live so far apart, she said, cuddled in his arms. We don’t think alike, he replied.

He’s lied to her in the past. Many times. I can feel my heart flutter, he says to her gently. Then he grabs his chest. As she rolls her eyes.

Last call. I’m the inventor of loneliness, he says. The lone woman in the bar touches her hair. That’s tragic, she says. And then she leaves.