When Amy and I went out, I chattered like a maniac. She was the most beautiful person I had ever met, and her long arms and legs reminded me of a magnificent bird. We went to a book cafe and talked for hours or years or seconds. I felt feelings for her blossom in my chest, so when she cringed as I held her hands or shuddered when I touched her should I felt responsible to protect Amy from the monster I saw in her eyes. As we stood up to leave I took her hand in mine and held it to my face. I leant in to kiss her, but she hesitated. Had my albatross forgotten her smile?
