Tommy had spent much of his Saturday off following a girl around the town. In retrospect, it sounded a good deal more deranged than at the time. He was only trying to see her face. He had, by that point, decided that he was possibly in love with her, hypnotised by the cascade of long, straight, black hair that swayed in time with the motion of her body. He was sure there would be an explosion if they met, sending their neutrons spraying throughout the city, all sacrificed for the uncontrollable passion that would ignite the second their eyes found their way to each other.
               Except that she had his back to him, and he was standing in a queue in a music shop, and already she was walking away, leaving only a waft of lemon-scented perfume in her wake. The crowd of weekend shoppers parted for a second, then crashed in around her, enveloping her in a haze of mothers clutching struggling toddlers and desperate B-boys in clans spitting on the pavement. Tommy realised his choice. Sure, he had been looking for this record for ages, but imagine if he never tried to catch her, if he just let her disappear? She would haunt him forever. She would linger on his mind, poisoning every relationship with a woman who couldn’t possibly live up to the memory. She might have been made for him. My eyes were lost until I found her, he thought, and thrust the EP towards a sale rack as he left in pursuit.
               Even with his significant height advantage, the crowded street still masked her from him. Desperately he fought his way, skimming through puddles and tripping on uneven paving stones. That hypnotic visage slowly revealed itself, blissfully unaware of the treacherous voyage of chance he was undertaking for her. A dopey smile fluttered across his face as he caught sight of his quarry. She glowed amongst the grey people. He thought she was the only real thing in the world. But she continued, outpacing him with every step.
               His obstacles grew evermore perilous. While she floated down the street uninterrupted, he was caught up in the tentacles of the mob, whipped into a frenzy in front of the biggest department store in town, and woe, ten per cent off all stock for one day only. He was losing her. Tommy watched as she drifted onwards, helpless behind a slow-moving grandmother taking three steps to hobble an inch. He shifted left, but a pram gridlock, right, and the throng were too thick and fierce to pass. Despairingly, he shuffled behind the old lady, his feet accidentally kicking the back of her ankles, his head jerking from side to side looking for safe passage as his beloved faded further into the distance. Finally, he saw a pocket of air yet to be filled, and leapt towards it, forcing his way forwards with a quickening pace, treading on feet and shouting apologies behind him. As the crowd thinned, he broke into a run. She was so far ahead, but he wouldn’t give her up, not yet. He just needed that one chance. He ran.
               With all his energy, watery eyes half-closed against the biting wind, teeth aching from huffing great gasps of air, limbs stretching and breaking, heart thumping, echoing in his ears, he ran. He saw their life together. If only he could catch her, everything would be wonderful, be beautiful. He imagined touching her hips, the lingering scent on her skin, perhaps…could he picture himself kissing her? Dare he even let his mind wander beyond that? The thought had him gulping air with increased urgency. His head was spinning. His eyes squinted into the sunlight and his pace slowed, finding himself in unfamiliar territory. His guiding light had vanished. With a shuddering spirit, he looked far ahead of him, into a nearly-empty street, then to each side, in case she had vanished down a deep alley, never to be seen again. He felt a stabbing pain in his side, and he wheezed sadly, glancing back towards the throng of shoppers. But then he saw a face. It glistened, framed with lush black hair. Could it be…Had he somehow overtaken her?
               Indeed her face glistened. Shopper’s perspiration mingling with layers of foundation. The black hair revealed itself not as a gift from God, but rather self-inflicted. Her eyebrows were a tawny colour, and plucked in asymmetrical shapes. Tommy’s breathing slowed as she moved towards him. She was beautiful, he supposed, looking at her, sizing her up. Maybe just pretty. Maybe a little bit less than that. She met his eyes briefly, without glimmer of recognition. They were no shared soul. She did not see her hopes and dreams in his eyes, and in truth, Tommy felt the same way. For a moment he contemplated that perhaps he had gotten the wrong girl, that his love had disappeared down some alleyway, gliding back to Avalon from whence she came. Then the girl had passed him, that same perfume filling his head and forcing his dreams from his mind. Lemon was so bitter.
               Having returned to the shop, his record was gone. Sold to some other customer with more focus on what they wanted from life, instead of taking risks. Tommy told himself that, given the chance, he would do the same thing again, and tried to derive some pride from the fact, but instead it made him sink