I had struggled with poor eyesight since I was a child, so spectacles had always been my faithful companions. As I grew older, I shifted to contact lenses, yet on some occasions I would pop out for a stroll with my dog or nip to the shop, only to realise Id left both behind. Such was the case on that fateful night. I dashed out to the local grocers, bounding down the stairs from my flat on the fifth floorour old building never did have a liftand halfway down I remembered Id forgotten my glasses. Feeling far too indolent to climb all the way back up, I resolved to get on without them.
Standing by the shelf with the tins of fish, I pestered the cashier repeatedly, asking about the different types of fish and what theyd been preserved in. But when the cashier was called away to attend to another customer, I turned for help to a young woman who happened to be nearby. I peered at her for a moment and, in her silhouette, something struck me as oddly familiar. Her bun was delightfully messy, almost like a pair of horns, and she wore a large, crimson scarf with a long, black coat draped over her shoulders.
Could you tell me, which one is the mackerel in tomato sauce? I enquired.
Wed been in neighbouring forms at school. I remembered her well for the peculiar style she always sported and the way teachers constantly told her off for her brightly painted nails.
This is the mackerel youre after, she replied rather formally. Anything else?
Sorry, Ive left my glasses at home and can barely see a thing, I explained.
We wandered through the shop together, chatting about old teachers and laughing at the memories. Once wed finished shopping, I suggested we step outside to enjoy the crisp autumn air or perhaps pop into a café for a cup of tea or coffee. She told me that she now worked at a veterinary clinic, which caught me off guard; somehow, I hadnt pictured her in that line of work. We exchanged telephone numbers, mentioning that it might be lovely to meet again.
Back at home, with my glasses finally perched on my nose, I read a message shed sent me just five minutes after we parted.
I must confess, I wasnt honest. I wasnt in your classwe were in Form A, but at a different school. I do hope you dont mind, and if not, perhaps we could have that coffee sometime. My treat.
I didnt hesitate to accept. When we met again, I found it impossible to take my eyes off her, she was even more beautiful than the girl I remembered from long ago.
We started seeing each other, and now we go out on dates. From time to time she teases me, asking if I truly have poor eyesight or if I was simply trying to flirt, but I know shes only joking. Looking back, it feels as though the hand of fate itself had brought us together.
