the gallery girl and the engineer

Occasionally
While searching for fuse wire he'd
Look up.
Pictures littered the warm magnolia walls.

He preferred the symmetry of the paint
Meeting
The wood of the skirting board.
Clean lines,
Nice clean lines
Neat,
Orderly
The edges of the frames
Fitted the landscape, but
The mess of colours in between distracted the eye
From the neatness
Of the otherwise
Nice
Warm
Room.

The socket
Had rounded corners
And he wasn't pleased.
He would have gone back for a square moulding but he was already late,
It would have to do

Suddenly
While searching for fuse wire he
Looked up
And saw her radiant in the afternoon sunshine
That entered through the square cut Georgian frame
Of the window.

Untidy curls of ginger hair
And a disarming smile
As she approached
With stilettos that surely
Would
Damage the parquet floor.

He squatted
Motionless,
Unable to breathe.
Then
She passed him a pen
That must have
Fallen
From the top pocket
Of his neatly
Ironed
Shirt.
She smiled

The socket
Was finished.
He thanked her
And tidied away his few tools into a small briefcase, before leaving
Another chance behind.