Her picture on her profile.
It began with that.
His long finger was arrested in its lazy, languid, bored downwards scroll by her image.
A slight intake of breath. An appreciative lift of the eyebrows. A smile. An impossible sense of recognition.
He did not know her, but she seemed familiar.
He studied her face. The eyes, the mouth, the nose, the cheekbones.
He stroked the stubble on his chin, and leaned forward slightly in his chair.
With his eyes closed he imagined her. And he could picture her completely in his head.
He guided the cursor and clicked the ‘follow’ button.
Her picture on her profile.
It began with that.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant/Faded Romantic
Not new, but I like it
Art by William Oxer
A Faded Romantic's Notebook 
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