Meeting Alex

Phoebe chuckled softly. “That obvious, huh?”

He smiled. ‘Only to someone who has been in such a position before’.

She looked at the notebook that lies on the table. “Are you a writer?”

“Sort of,” he replied, pointing to the cover. “I like to take papers and write down the things that I am thinking about. It aids my thinking processes because it is only when I see them written down in black and white do I actually stop and analyze my real thoughts.”

Phoebe looked at him, and after absorbing all that he had said she nodded. ‘I say to you that one time I was a writer, at least I tried it, but now I do not write anymore’.

“Perhaps you should,” he said, a gentle look in his eyes. “It may help you understand what is going on in that head of yours.” He said pointing to his forehead.

Phoebe threw her head back and took a long swig of beer, frowning as she ran her finger round the circumference of the glass. “It’s like I have no clue what I want, but at the same time I can’t even imagine want