Andrew J. Lederer

to the train station where I saw Elise off as she left for Bristol to compete in some BBC new media competition. She suggested it was, perhaps, redolent of Noel Coward's "Brief Encounter", so I said maybe it was the train station in "Brief Encounter".

She replied that she didn't think they had a train station in "Brief Encounter", which confused me.

Ahh . . .

So many ways to kiss; so many different varieties of lip movement.

So easy to become labially uptight when you want things to be perfect but fear they'll be not-quite-right.

I mean, I've been harshly assessed within the last few weeks. I don't want to take any risks.

I'm a good kisser.

. . . Usually.

I bet the author whose name was on that book we saw when Elise was looking for something to read on the train didn't think I was a bad kisser. I'd felt guilty about not getting in touch with her after Edinburgh, so, finally, the other day, I went to her website to get her contact information, as she'd said I should.

The contact information was for her agent and her publisher.

Do you think they'll respond well to an apology for taking so long to get in touch? Will they tell me whether or not I was a good kisser?

I kissed Elise goodbye with tender, cautious ineptitude; enough to last through the days of competition, during which time I'll molder in Notting Hill while she becomes the toast of Bristol.

She didn't criticize my effort.