Height of appreciation

Lena awoke with a long stretch.

Grant, his name was. They’d met the previous evening and she’d been as taken by his impressive height as he’d been by her appreciation of it.

It wasn’t until the soberness of the morning, however – when her quips were met with bemusement; when he told long, humourless stories about, well, who could tell? – that she realised he resembled a ladder in not just height but charisma.

“Is tallness a personality type?” she wondered, less impressed now than she’d been the night before by the sight of his feet overhanging the end of her bed.

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