Creamy Red

Through coincidence alone, dressed in a symbolic red hoodie, took a lonely bottle of birch beer soda from the fridge and gave it away. It had been there since I left another bottle in her fridge. The first time either of us had tried it was together, and we'd spent so much time in two different cities, always together, trying to find more. And now that it is out of my fridge, so is my last and final hope of talking to her, sharing our Creamy Red memories, enjoying the flavour of a romance that – I suppose, I fear, I understand - meant more to me.