Callahan turned toward the sound of my surprised laugh.
“Someone interesting?” he asked the air.
I froze. Most people looked away from me. He couldn’t look at all.
We talked for three hours that night. He told me about music and how it let him see the world in colors other people missed. I told him about art and how I tried to create the beauty I could no longer see in myself. When he asked for my number, I gave it to him with shaking hands.
On our first real date, in a quiet café with soft lighting, I whispered across the table, “I should tell you something… I don’t look like other women.”
