A secret

(The imaginary scene in my head)

The person sitting behind the metal desk in the large grassy area outside the campus dipped their donut in a mug of warm espresso, and took a bite of it. I could tell they were relishing the cruller and the coffee. It was nice outside, spring, warm but not too warm.

Mid-day, it was sunny but shady, and the overwhelming smell of jasmine and blooming roses were nearby as the gardens were full of them.

What’s your secret, tell me!

The sign read.

I leaned down, whispered,

“I’d fuck Colin Firth’s brains out.”

Fin.