She was looking at me.

She was looking at me, most likely by accident. Possibly she didn’t even see me. I, in turn, started to examine her, and completely stopped hearing anything my wife was saying.

CONFESSION BY REGINE RAYEVSKY FISHER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 109

In a small cozy tavern in Berlin, a party of married couples sat in flickering candlelight around a table cover…