Dear Prudence

The evening plays back in stutters and blurs, parts slow motion (turning and just smiling at one another, no words passing our lips) and others a kind of staccato progression, down tree lined streets and through darkened parks in a suburb that’s whereabouts is still unknown to me.
I struggle to remember if the stars watched over us or not, but the whole thing seems like a picturesque dream, vague but striking deep enough to leave some type of impression.
After clumsily colliding with one another, I slid a gloveless hand around her wrist and locked it into place in hers. (But even this is a misty memory)
We said our goodbyes and she disappeared into what I believe was a two-storey house, hidden behind a thick evergreen hedge.
That was the last I ever saw of her.