Ghada wrote to me yesterday that she had a secret she wanted to share with me. She said she would tell it to me today when we meet at the university. Her office is a floor below mine. She did appear at the door of my office earlier this morning, but there was someone with me. This is what I just received from her:

And now, my secret. It is merely this: on two occasions last week I slipped from my desk, climbed the stairs, turned right, took the south corridor, and stopped at your door, which was luckily open both times. I had nothing to say. Only watching you—actually, your back—was enough for me. I am embarrassed. This is my secret.

“Oh, Ghada,” I replied without much thought, “this is so sweet!” Not knowing what else to say, I added a few quaint words: “Now I am embarrassed…” Ghada and I are dangerously close to doing something I am likely to regret forever. Our communications, like this one, now regularly lead to delicious erections…