“There’s no need for you to be nervous, honest.” Tony leaned across the table and touched her arm gently.
“You’re too kind,” she said. Her voice was dry. She coughed self-consciously, raising a hand to her mouth, and simultaneously sniffed a bandage, worried her perfume no longer covered the whiff of decay.
“You know, when Clara suggested I go on a blind date with her mummy friend I expected someone…” he swirled the wine in his glass, almost as if doing so would wash up the correct word, “well, with children.”
She laughed and finally relaxed a little. “So Tony, what is it that you do?”
There was a twinkle in Tony’s eye when he said, “I’m an archaeologist.”
Ken McGrath lives in Dublin, Ireland but you can find him online @fromthebigface. His fiction has been published in Daily Science Fiction, Speck Lit, Word Legs, Antipodean SF and 365 Tomorrows among others.
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