He was a tall, bearded man with kind crinkly eyes. His nose was a fat, white freckled bulb, an onion crumpled by three accidents as he grew up- the latest that bent it to a valley happened in a bus accident where ten broke their noses as it swerved and flipped a curve.
She had a tall nose, a carrot in a proud, beautiful face framed by thick, long curls. Coincidences traced their story along the lines of their faces, their noses, their lips, their fingers.
They met in fleeting moments. She snapped. He tittered. Their parents had tried to fix a marriage between them. She had refused blindfolded quick. He blamed his mother for her matchmaking.
Second time they met it had been a surprise for both of them, wary they circled each other in a place where the clouds ebbed against the mountains. They began a friendship, the easiest the oldest kinds with the trading of insults. A friend with an unavoidable nose himself was the one to point out to them their distinctively matching noses.
They fought for fun, matching comebacks, giggling fits, drinking nights. The stories never ran out, to tell each other. Strains of a catchy tune wrapped the two of them, they would dance a happy jig alone in their rooms or in an empty supermarket aisle, tap it on the steering wheel stuck in honey thick traffic moving ever so slow, on an empty hallway with their echoing footsteps.
They were happy. Nose to Nose. They had found their home and yet stubborn as they were, they refused to accept it.
Maybe it was more in spite, a rebellion against their clueless, doting parents so worried and eager to see them settled. Maybe it was the fear of how much the other would matter. They were both wizened to the ways of the world. They knew the dangers a real love would bring. Or maybe it was their noses, such a pair of distinct characters crammed, stretched and crushed into their noses.