Mary mistaken

We have a huge range of shirts.

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Copyright © 2024, Michael M Wayman

I was crossing the town square, it is named after a long forgotten saint, but not the big statue in the middle of the square. She ran at me from the 8 o’clock position and enveloped me. I had no chance, she hugged me all over. Who was she? Who the hell was she?

I was in town to buy shirts, you can buy anything in the internet, however clothes I like to see and feel before I buy them. But there is always a shop assistant who wants to help you.

“Can I help you?”
“No, I’m just looking.”
“We have a huge range of shirts…”
“Got any extra long ones, but NOT with long sleeves.”
“Oh yes, with have shirts with long sleeves.”
Groan!

Who was she? Who the hell was she? She did look good, very good indeed, so I did not resist. She grabbed my hand and towed me back to her place, her apartment; but I did not discover what her name was nor my name, that is the name of the person she thought I was.

“You’ve come back to town and you were on your way to meet me.” She said a lot of very positive things about me, I don’t remember what. And I still did not know who she was.

“Nice shirts! I’ll pick one for you to wear tomorrow morning.” We sat on her sofa and she continued to hug me all over and say nice things to me and about me.

“I’ve been saving this bottle of Korn for your return.” It was good, Nordhäuser Doppelkorn. We fell asleep on the sofa.