Sunday, nine forty, a table by the window.

Somebody wrote to my link on Thursday. I am only finding out about it now, over coffee, with them sitting across from me. The first hello does not wait for me any more.

By the time I read the thread, the hard half is done: a time we both had free, a place I like, and one line about them I would never have found on my own. Everything that is actually work waits on my desk in their own words.

Business, dating, a coffee on Sunday. Nobody has to put on their LinkedIn voice. San Francisco, fog until eleven, then the kind of light that makes you forgive the fog.

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