[Dinah’s close by. Not close enough to immediately tell it’s Faith, but close enough to see a petite woman with brown hair and a figure to die for.
It isn’t her, she tells herself. It can’t be her. Duplicity is never this kind.
But call it masochism, for Dinah hurries to catch the woman stood staring at the Back Door. She’s sure, until she glimpses the profile of Faith’s face, that her feelings will be crushed.
But it’s her and Dinah suddenly doesn’t know what to do or say.]
Faith?
[There’s no running into Faith’s arms, no big song and dance. Instead, Dinah smiles shyly.]
Memories
It isn’t her, she tells herself. It can’t be her. Duplicity is never this kind.
But call it masochism, for Dinah hurries to catch the woman stood staring at the Back Door. She’s sure, until she glimpses the profile of Faith’s face, that her feelings will be crushed.
But it’s her and Dinah suddenly doesn’t know what to do or say.]
Faith?
[There’s no running into Faith’s arms, no big song and dance. Instead, Dinah smiles shyly.]
D’you remember me?