RED HOT STORIES (A COLLECTION OF ST*AMY STORIES)
It was a strange feeling not the kind of attention that made you self-conscious, but the kind that made you curious about yourself.
I sat at my desk again, trying to write, but my thoughts drifted back to that moment his voice, the calm in his eyes, the tiny spark of humor when he spoke.
I realized something quietly inside me: maybe inspiration wasn’t only found in words. Maybe it was found in people.
That afternoon, I went back to the same café. I told myself it was just for coffee, but deep down, I was hoping to see him again. The thought made me nervous, but also strangely excited.