So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did.
On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.
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Isaiah McDermott shifted his pack to ease the pressure on his shoulders. He rested a bit as he checked his bearings. It appeared as if he was on course toward his destination. According to his map there should be a farm house near by. He had to avoid it at all cost. The "Aggressors" would be watching it. It was on a natural choke point where the roads crossed because of the terrain. The creek and the river in conjunction with the hills made this the easiest way to get to the main highway.
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I couldn't keep my eyes off of the elegant older woman sitting in the top row of the bleachers at the matinee of the ritzy horse fair.
I also couldn't help but notice that she was making a less than subtle production out of lowering her designer sunglasses and looking me up and down, smiling in a cat-that-wants-to-swallow-the-canary way. Younger women, or at least women who were my age, didn't begin to know how to smile like that.
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My wife and I and our best friends had reached that stage in life where the kids were on there own and we had some extra money to enjoy ourselves. Sheila and her husband Sam and my wife Jan and I had been close friends since our kids were babies, and had spent family summer vacations with them for years. Now that the kids were gone we decided to take a 7 day Caribbean cruise the first week of January. Sam and I also are very big pro football fans and cheer for the same team.
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Kids! Don't try this at home! Unprotected sex leads to many bad things. A fantasy, based on a lovely lady who is not my photography student, nor any sort of partner, sexual or otherwise.
Darkrooms are sexy places. Ever since my friend Peter used to feel up girls in the high school yearbook darkroom – with full compliance and complicity – I have known darkrooms to be wonderful places.
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It's peaceful up here in my school library. I like the big windows. I like the big tree outside the windows, here on the second floor, where I kinda feel like I'm in the tree. I'm trying to decide what kind of tree it is, and I think it may be a sycamore. That's the kind with the smooth patchy bark, right? I think so.
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There are not many things that would get me up so early on a Saturday morning, but there I was watching the sun rise from East Beach. I must admit that I spent the last two Earth Day Celebrations sacked out for most of the day after a night of heavy consumption. But just the thought of catching a glimpse of Madeline Hannah Waller giving a speech on the local environmental efforts was certainly worth getting up early for.
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The party had been going well until Sarah put her hand on her husband's leg under the dinner table at their friend's house. She was surprised when moments later he gently pushed her hand off. She brushed off the encounter and continued talking and laughing with their friends.
There were four couples at the dinner party; a group of old friends that got together a few times a year for good food and a late night of drinks.
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So finally we meet. God, you are even more radiant and exuding that perfume that I only have heard about so far. Your Irish eyes crinkle and sparkle with mischief as you smile at me, taking in my gauche nervousness.
"Nervous, boy?" you ask me teasingly.
I try and laugh it off, blushing furiously.
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I was down the back of my section getting stuck into the overgrown mass of weeds there with a view to turning it into a vegetable wonderland. Right now the weeds with their long intertwined root systems were winning hands down. However I persevered in the hot sun until I had to stop and take a drink of water from the sipper bottle I had left in the shade. Lukewarm.
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