I look at her and I still see it. The moment I looked across the tram and found her looking at me.
I thought I’d never see her again.
Only, she didn’t leave the tram. And I didn’t leave. I gazed at her, trying to figure out what exactly she was thinking, where exactly she was going, who exactly she was meeting.
The tram reached the end of the line.
I picked up her bag; lifted my hand to hers, helping her down.
And that moment is what I see now, still, sixty years later. Wonder and thoughtfulness and grace.
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