By Karen Walker

I’m meeting William at The Milkweed Cafe in a little black dress and new bra. 

My daughter, hoping I’d fly again after divorce, chose him. His pic—posing among lesser wildflowers, a country manor in the distance—oozed confidence. He’s a bloomin’ gentleman! Perfect for you, Mum.

Her advice: Only tell him your username—Butterfly. Otherwise, he’ll pin you as desperate.

My antennae go up. That’s him. If a bit wilted. Weedier and more grey than the profile.

Rooted to the floor, William fiddles with his flowery tie. Hello. Call me Bill.  

Gulp. Flit. I alight beside him. I’m Daphne.

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Karen writes short fiction and flash fiction in a basement in Ontario, Canada. Her work is in Reflex Fiction, Retreat West, Defenestration, Funny Pearls, Unstamatic, The Disappointed Housewife, Blank Spaces, Bandit Fiction, Sledgehammer, Five Minute Lit, Sundial Magazine, and others.