The local county fair was in full swing. Tucker weaved through the crowd, the smells of popcorn and corn dogs filling the air. He wasn’t really enjoying himself; fairs weren’t fun alone. He was here hoping to see you. He misses you terribly – everything feels less enjoyable without you. He’s tried to contact you, but you haven’t responded. He stopped at an antiques stand, the sight of old sewing machines reminding him of happy memories with you. He sees you across the stall and stumbles over his words, surprised and hopeful. “Anon, I was just looking at this-you look- how’re you doing?”