LAST NIGHT

Last night I said, ‘it’s the wrong format. They can't show it. I want to go.’
‘Don’t go,’ said the man on our way out. ‘You haven’t seen my film.’
I said goodbye. He said we should stick together.
This morning I told her I wanted to finish it expecting her to say she didn’t think it a good idea. What she said was, ‘you’re doing something you feel uncomfortable about.’
This evening, walking in the opposite direction, I saw the man who’d said, “don’t go.” He was carrying a camera. He was with two other men one of whom held a tripod in his right hand.
‘Shall I say hello?’ I thought and didn’t know if he’d’ve recognised me. When we’d first met it’d been dark. ‘I’ll wait until we meet there again,’ remembering how I’d felt last night.