I’ll text you and apologize ‘I’m running late, my hair is a mess‘ but I won’t hear from you until I see you sat at the cafe where we planned to meet. You’ll sigh slightly annoyed but then there will be wine. The sun is out and even in December, there is no need for tights just a blazer, so obviously we will sit outside. Bare legs blissfully tucked underneath a table too small at a cafe too crowded. But we like the people,we like to talk about them. Making up stories about strangers is an endless pursuit for me, and one I’ll show you. You’ll ask how I did my hair, I’ll explain my faux bangs but conclude with a shrug, because all I did was throw my hair up. You might show me a text a man sent you, we might laugh or curse and we will certainly roll our eyes. I’ll show you the terrible fake tan stain on my hands and tell you about the American I’m in love with at my gym. We will eat all the olives ,order another glass and contemplate salads or maybe the salmon on the menu. You might like my earrings, I’ll give them to you. I have 20 pairs at home, don’t ask why. I might teach you some Spanish, obviously starting with weird words like salchicha or caracola – more hilarious than useful. We’ll finally decide on salads and by the time they arrive, we are on our third glass of wine or vino we might say,because after all, we are in Spain. And we will people watch, the sun will be beating the winter away- and we’ll laugh because you found yourself in Barcelona and here we are at the cafe where we planned to meet. Oh how lovely would it be, to meet you all, one by one for a glass of wine or three at a cafe on my street.