He was standing in the dark alley, lit from above by the street lights, but his face was shadowed by his hat.

She took another sip from her coffee while she watched him. He just stood there. Was he waiting for someone? And was it for a nefarious purpose or an intense love affair?

Her mother would tell her to turn away and mind her own business. No good could come of thinking about some stranger who could be dangerous. But it was that little thrill of danger that drew her to him.

She finished her coffee, paid her bill and put on her long jacket. Adjusting her long blonde wig, she stepped out of the coffeehouse and into the dark. She crossed the street and approached the man.

He looked at her and said, “Lauren Bacall, I assume?”

Nodding, she replied, “Humphrey Bogart?” He nodded curtly and took her hand as she started to whistle.

(161 words)