A. writes creative nonfiction and fiction across a range of genres.
I planted the flowers in March. I went outside and it was warm and the threat of frost was basically gone. The yard needed cleaning. I mowed and tended to the weeds and started thinking. Imagining the flowers soon to come, the yard in full bloom. The peonies I knew would arrive not long from now. The black-eyed susans. The brief glory of cherry blossoms. Then, I started thinking of what I’d like to see. And, of course, what she might enjoy.
The Barn sat just outside of town. Painted all white now, it had been fairly run down before a new set of owners converted the guest house on the property into a bed and breakfast cabin and the barn into an event venue. The entire area was locally known as The Barn, now.
17 degrees. Mid-January. The coldest day of the year yet. And what would likely be the coldest day of the year overall. He had a very narrow window. A lunch meeting and a definite time to be home -- and his home was 3 hours away.
Her daughter had been raving about the school's new English teacher for weeks. His readings made books come alive, she had said. He shared his writing to prompt the students to write. And his words were amazing.
His text asked what she was doing. What was she doing that day? Could she get away? Could they finally meet? He would be coming through her town around 4 and had about an hour or two to spare. They could talk. See each other face to face.
You return to your hotel room late in the evening... after drinking with friends from the business conference you're attending.
She wore a simple, black, one piece suit. She was not tall... but well-proportioned... in fact, her breasts were rather large and exceptional... round and firm and perky.
During the interview, he noticed the deep, dark brown of her hair. How well it blended with her olive-tan skin. The depth of darkness in her eyes. He found her instantly attractive, even more than her picture had revealed. He'd become accustomed to meeting women who'd sent him pictures only to be disappointed. This case was exactly the opposite. She was at once more beautiful, more engaging than he'd hoped.