I almost died.
Laughing, I mean. I feel the need to add that, because another cause of death does seem more likely. Self-inflicted harm for example, given the fairly recent demise of my marriage.

But I had shrugged off my marriage like a warm winter coat in a heat wave: what had once felt warm and comfortable had become stifling and, despite the initial shock and chill from the loss of its bulky cover, I felt lighter, freer and more beautiful than ever in my summer frock.

And that was how I came to be sitting on the terrace of a trendy restaurant, wearing a snugly fitting, light-blue short-sleeved dress and strappy silver sandals, waiting for a blind date.

Read the full story here: CafeLitMagazine: Last Date by Eline Tuijn a glass of chilled Chardonnay