048

 

He moved into her space ever so briefly. And that split second was charged.

He smelled of balsam and sandalwood.

He was suddenly unsure. She was as suddenly certain.

“Walk me out?”

He nodded subtly.

Her eyes danced. And slowly she backed away with magnetism that pulled him along and he followed her.

Her smile was easy and her warmth enticing. The effect she had on him was ineffable. It wasn’t something he hadn’t really experienced before. Sure. There had been girlfriends and dates and hook-ups before. This was none of those. He knew that; but did not have a reference for what it was.

She had reached for his hand, caught it, turned and was leading him toward the exit. Just the way her thumb played with his palm had him aroused.

The crowd ebbed and flowed around them, but she filled his vision and his mind.

 

What was she doing?!

Her reason was screaming at her. He is too young. This is not a good idea.

They reached the chill of the night as they burst through the door into the dimly lit parking lot.

She spun around and took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. Aggressive until he moaned ever so gently, and his hands found her shoulders and she relaxed and let him return a kiss with tenderness and longing. Her intrusive thoughts had grown quiet. All of her objections to letting this just happen were forgotten.

047

  The house was old and empty and somehow romantic all at once. Haunted in the way an old house gets. Nothing scary or violent, just memories that hung at the edges of the rooms. The wind would come up and the windows would whistle and the past of the house seemed closer for a few moments. She would come sneak in, sit on the staircase, close her eyes and let the house give her its memories.  

043

She watched her child sleep. The peace on the young face so contrary to the shrieking bundle he was most of his waking hours.
She felt her body release the emotions. Tears ran from her eyes as she sank to her knees. Motherhood certainly was not the cozy pink and blue fluffy experience that baby lotion advertisements evoked. 

046

Adam Whitacre woke to a quiet in the East Wing. His dream of Muppets protesting the NRA still echoed in his brain. The television remote lay close at hand, as he shook off the fog of sleep. He realized that he rather desperately needed to urinate. He bumbled his way to the bathroom and sunk down onto the toilet. All 72 years of him sagged. His ostentatious gold silk pajama set made his flesh appear to glow pink in the harsh lighting.
The staff would show soon; the only people allowed to see him like this. Old. Tired. Clueless.