A Chance Encounter

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Walking forward, her head buried in a map, Bridget attempted to find the music building. Looking closely at the street names, she failed to notice the wrought-iron lamp post that she was on a collision course towards. With a whump, she smacked into the lamppost full force. Bridget overbalanced and collapsed to the pavement hard. Papers and books went flying everywhere.

“Hey, are you alright?” A man’s voice asked from behind her. “Here, let me help you up.”

He walked around so that he was facing her and offered her his hands. Shyly, she looked up at him.

“Thanks.” She said. “I…uh, wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It happens to the best of us. Hold on, I’ll get those.” He said as he stooped down to pick up her fallen possessions.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus.”

“The name’s William, Will for short. And you?”

“Bridget. It’s a family name.”

“It’s a nice name. Well here you go.” He said as he handed her the neat pile of papers.

“Wait! Do you by any chance know where the music building on campus is? I’m new here, and I can’t read a map for the life of me.”

Snatching the stack of papers back from her, he rummaged through the sheets until he uncovered the now heavily crinkled map. Taking out a pen, he began to outline the route she should take.

“On second thought,” he muttered softly, and then responded louder “I’ll guide you there. I don’t have a class right now, so I’ve got some time to kill.”

“Thank you so much William. I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“No problem. And it’s Will. When people use my full name, it makes me feel old! What are you thinking of studying?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure what I want to do, but I’m thinking of majoring in music.”

“Music, huh? Do you play an instrument?”

“No, I sing, but I’m planning on learning how to play the piano as well.”

“Well, seems like you’re on your way to becoming a musical virtuoso!” He said with a grin. I myself am majoring in theatre.”

Suddenly, Will bowed majestically to Bridget, flourished his hand her direction and proclaimed “May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music hall, milady?”

Grinning from ear to ear with the sheer hilarity of it all, Bridget curtseyed to him, gently placed her palm in the crook of his elbow, and graciously remarked “You may, kind sir.”





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