Strand

She is still the same.

It's been nearly a year since we've seen each other.

Now, sitting across from her in this almost empty restaurant, sharing salad and spaghetti, I know exactly why I've missed her so much. She fills the space she occupies with laughter and light. She jokes about the pimples on her chin. She moves too fast for me to take her picture. She can be still, but she prefers not to be. When I take a tumble in the crowded bookstore, she helps me up and treats me to banana cake and tiramisu.