The wind blew my skirt sideways scandalously exposing my calves, as I bobbed rhythmically through Maylands, encouraged by the dangerously debonair sounds of Sinatra. 'Twas windy, 'twas cold and I developed a unnatural attraction to a bridge. We approached eachother liking courting teenagers of the 1930's. We were shy, reserved, he gave me a flower. I flirted and batted my eyelids a little until he laughed. He opened up to me and allowed me to capture the small beauties of his details. As the wind picked up even more I knew we had to part. But I left with a wink and a promise to return.
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