Conversation opened. 1 unread message. She wore her Pink Skirt down with her Transparent panties and was trying to balance herself — badly — on the toilet bowl, which already bore the marks and scars of a full night of humanity’s passing by. I couldn’t see her face, covered by her long dark hair, but could see everything else that was to see. She didn’t realise I was there, not immediately, not until she was almost falling down — toilet bowls are slippery — and as she was falling down, I let go of my drink and held her from falling. She didn’t say a word, and I didn’t say a word. She reassessed her balance, helping herself with my body next to her. I hold her hand while she finished her business, looking myself straight in the eyes with her wide, caramel coloured ones. All I knew in that moment was beauty