Accident – A Flash Fiction

“I don’t really know how to date anyone,” she tells me across the table.  We stare at each other over the shitty cracked table cover and the bland food.

“You’ve been married,” I point out, spearing a wilted broccoli head.  “That implies – ” I grin “- just a bit, that you’ve dated before now.”

She laughs, and it’s a delightful sound.  “No, I mean, it’s like coming to this restaurant. We didn’t plan on it, it just… happened.”

“An accident,” I say, and we laugh again.

Later, when our hands slip into each other’s…  that isn’t accidental at all.

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