I had seen her twice that day. I remember the first time at school, recognizing her face in a blurred picture, and regretting not having taken the time to say hi. I remember liking her face too. I stop her to say that. Later in the conversation I find out it wasn’t her who I’d seen before. Maybe it was the alcohol that implanted that memory and drove me to start that conversation, but I still think it was that same girl, asking me to stop and greet her.