by Janet Dale
We walk together to the front porch, and out of nowhere, she hugs me tight with both arms. I remain frozen, she tells me how it was “the best night.” Turning in toward her — those sparkling blue eyes, for a moment I consider a kiss. But instead, I scurry away to the safety of the car, she pauses to watch me go. I slide the key into the ignition and flash my headlights; she flashes the porch light back at me. Apart, we’re just two confused souls in the dark, but together we're electric.
6S
Janet Dale, who blogs here, is set to graduate from the University of Memphis in December with a B.A. in English (Creative Writing). She is currently researching M.F.A. programs, studying to take the GRE, and reading literary classics.
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Saturday Night
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7 comments:
The electric tie in works nicely....
Very well done.
I love this.
Honest and beautiful. I like.
Sad and truthful, and a nice portrayal of that awkwardness. Made me think there's someone in the house waiting for her (like a spouse, not a murderer).
Thanks for that. Great work.
Raquel
Quin - Thank you, electricity seemed to be throughout the piece so I decided to tie it up that way.
Joe - :o)
Allison - I'm glad!
Katie - Very honest indeed. I wish I was as brave in real life as I am in writing real life.
Teresa - That's a good take on it. Or maybe there was an approaching car?
Raquel - You're welcome.
~~J
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