Love and Romance in the Times of Our Apocalypse

Picture a Friday night in 1995. A pub with a patio opening onto a green park, the sky still pink at nine o'clock. Someone is here because a friend phoned them at the last minute; someone else because the alternative was staying home. A bar full of strangers becoming gradually less strange to each other. Two people end up at the same corner near the speakers, and share eye contact over a terrible song choice, and a laugh between them shifts the entire evening. They don't know each other yet, only the way they hold their glass, the way they look at each other. The unknown is the adventure. Now: a couch, last Wednesday. The week has been long and expensive and there's yet another dark news cycle the shade of crude oil. She picks up her phone out of habit. First profile: "Adventurous soul 🌍. Dog dad. Work hard, play hard. Not here for hookups 😅." Second: a photo taken at the same angle, a different name, another hiking photo. Third: holding a freshly-caught fish, holding a deer head by…