It was Christmas Eve when we first met. Something out of a dream. I had just moved into the apartment above you and it was snowing when I got in. I was trying to haul an enormous box inside when you came and offered to help. You were so polite, such a gentleman. Handsome, too. I wasn't sure what to say or do but you didn't seem to mind. You smiled and said, "Ma'am, please, let me help."
"N-not ma'am," I stammered, "Lark."
You smiled again, "Songbird. Beautiful."
And I was bewitched. From then on you did everything in your power to sweep me off my feet. You left gifts and notes outside my door, you invited me over for coffee and home-cooked meals; you even helped me bury Ris, my black lab, even though you hated dogs. It was my dream come true.
