it was a summers day when we met birds sang a bird singy song I skipped lightly as I walked as did my heart with anticipation we had been talking for three months she had sent me a picture or two her face for contemplation and adoration and a tastefully taken spread pussy shot I sat by the park bench where we had agreed to rendezvous I was early, and a little nervous so I spat at the squirrels to distract me and pass the time. fucking rodents to say she hadn’t been entirely honest with me does not begin to explain I didn’t recognise her at first she said she would be dressed in red and that I would see her coming she hadn’t mentioned the ‘Quickie S-525 Custom Power Wheelchair’ or the tetraplegia she was accustomed to. the perils of internet dating we walked through the park well, one of us did. She just sat there. she was actually quite nice the squirrels regarded us with suspicion we buzzed along regardless and sat by the waters edge she told me there were some sandwiches in her bag as the ducks edged closer so did a brave squirrel her laugh was a pleasure to behold when I kicked the furry little rodent to the hungry ducks who duly pecked it to pieces whilst I ate the sandwich peanut butter, crunchy. my favourite we spoke of many things her physical disability she told me had spurred her on to make the most of her mind and the most she had made we discussed Theology and both agreed that any God who would disable an innocent child at birth must be a right cunt we discussed science and both agreed that when warfare and space exploration are more important than feeding the starving or curing the ill then scientists must be right cunts we discussed art she herself preferred the masterpieces of Leonardo of da Vinci and Pablo Picasso I said I preferred Rolf Harris and she laughed then I laughed so she wouldn't think I was being serious we laughed then I made an inappropriate joke out of Pablo’s surname and we stopped laughing, me shortly after her we discussed music from the Baroque period it took us to Purcell and Bach we discussed fine literature she enjoyed Shakespeare and Dickens but said that Hugo gave her the hump by the time we started on theatre I realised I was still in love maybe more so and that the wheelchair altered nothing (although it did help with her posture) and it led me to realise love isn’t in the bounce of a breast the curve of a buttock or the musky aroma of vaginal flatulence no love is in the mind it is minds that meet not bodies. which was just as well. the sex was a disappointment. it really was.