He stands out of place, in a tailored suit outdoors. Instead of overloaded shopping bags, he carries a bouquet. His patent black-leather shoes clap against the concrete sidewalk as he paces past after each outlet store. Their headless manikins fail to catch his attention with their brand name clothes. The sales signs also fail in their pursuit of his cash.
He runs his hand through his hair, smoothing the hopelessly wayward strands of hair back into place. His watch beeps, making him jump. Then his head picks up and his gaze drifts among the faces in the walking crowds. None of their faces hold him for long. He hasn't found her yet.
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