Remember?

I pace in front of the restaurant - if I go in, I’ll forget this melody I’ve got going in my head, and my phone, on which I would record it as a voice memo, is currently back at work, charging.

I sing it to myself again, even as the wind kicks up, chilling my hands and cheeks in the cold winter breeze.

I write down some lyrics on an old napkin I dig out of my bag.

I sigh, looking longingly at the front door of the restaurant, then start to walk around the block, singing the melody to myself yet again.