He should have brought her here before.

Before the breakup, before she called, before she told him she didn't want them anymore.

She hugged him on his scooter. She said it was out of habit. It was all so natural, the way she put her arms around him. It was distantly familiar, strangely familiar. All of her was strangely familiar. It was like she had jumped out of a memory and everything before was just a dream.

But he knew it wasn't that way.

He had thought that he would be meeting someone completely distant, a stranger perhaps. It wasn't that way though. She was still who she was.
Slightly crazy, slightly enchanting.

She started singing popish rock songs on his motorcycle. Loud and very off tune, the same as before.

He brought her to the beach. Lets just watch, he had told her. Don't go down. He knew she would go down anyway, even in her stockings and her red high heels. She couldn't resist the ocean.

He helped her down the edge. Her feet sunk into the sand and he watched as she tottered down and sat on a rock. She looked like some retro black and white picture. She kicked off her shoes and wriggled out of her stockings.

He laughed. He should have known better.

She ran off to the waves, hair flying all over the place, wonderfully free.