Upside Down

The day had started as usual, with the promise of a calm and uneventful Sunday. The office was quieter than usual, the hum of computers and the occasional phone call creating a serene backdrop. I had taken a moment to escape the confines of my cubicle and retreat to the restroom, seeking a brief respite fbefore the meeeting.

That's when she barged in, her voice a sharp contrast to the tranquillity. The familiarity of her presence was like a shock to my system, bringing with it a wave of memories. The last time I saw her, it was under very different circumstances.

I watched as she fumbled with her bag, clearly agitated. Her long, silky hair was the same, cascading down her back like a waterfall. It was a sight that stirred something deep within me. I remembered how that hair used to brush against my skin, a sensation both comforting and thrilling.

"Ma'am, I believe this is the men's toilet," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I washed my hands. I could see the water on the floor, a hazard waiting to happen.

"Is it? Who cares? I just need to wash my hands," she mumbled, not even looking up.

"You should be careful with your heels. The floor is slippery," I warned. Just as I spoke, she turned towards me, her heel skidding on the wet tile. Instinct took over, and I reached out, grabbing her waist to prevent her from falling.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Her hair fell over her face, and the scent of her perfume filled the air. It was a heady mix of familiarity and something new, something that spoke of changes and time passed.

She quickly composed herself, standing up straight and fixing her hair and shirt. When she finally looked at me, her eyes widened in recognition.

"You?" she asked, her voice a mix of fury and surprise.

"You?" I echoed, equally taken aback.