Where exactly was the petrol station? For the life of me I cannot remember but in my mind it has come to represent the middle of nowhere. As I recall it now we ran into each other somewhere between who we had been and who we were becoming.
The pause. The flabbergasted moment of recognition. The question: “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I could ask you the same thing.”
Personal histories, peripherally shared, collided in a strangely beautiful moment of chance that would become the hallmark of our friendship. Years passed. The distances grew. The chance encounters continued.
Words slipping down shiny screens, shared as maybe gifts with a world we almost knew, would make us pause, recognise the other anew, and ask: “Where in the world are you? How are you there? Where are you going?”
Always the shining, shared belief that our minds would meet again.