wordsfromtracy
The Scotts jeered at the new bloke from over the hill. His tales were reminiscent of those told repeatedly throughout the highlands, but he was impervious.
Her glasses rested on the edge of her nose, she focused on the screen in front of her. The lane of traffick that passed by the piazza drummed in her ears. Then a car stalled a few feet from her table.
I can't imagine life without him. My husband. Were it not for the fatal crash that killed my mother I would not have met him. He walked out of the other car, virtually unscathed. The car that had run the red light, slamming into my mom's little Taurus.
He was denied entrance into the exclusive club because of his shoes. He knew it, those damn shoes Ricki had given him were the cause. He whipped his phone out of his back pocket and spoke the name, "Ricki." The young man answered on the third strum of the guitar.
The cap was too tight, I struggled to twist it of to no avail. The man sitting alone in the seat next to mine watched, a grin on his stubbly face. Would he offer his assistance or just stare at me while I showed a lack of feminine prowess in my inability to undo a simple lid?
The moments leading up to today didn't make sense. I was a random atom in this world of circling meaningless. I was the only living thing it seemed to me. Problem was everyone else thought they were alive and I was dead.
Just a sliver of time was all it took. It sent me back, reeling into the great unknown beginnings of my life. Somewhere I didn't want to go, but fate was going to shift my life in a backwards focus no matter what steps I took to will it not. What would those forgotten memories bring?
Darla looked down at the flowing red dress that swayed around her. The hem had a slight tear along the rhine stones. Her mother would fix it later.
"Daring, how did you Ike the ball?" Esther said as she grabbed both of darla's hands firmly in hers.
"Oh it was fabulous! The dress was stunning, and Fred and I danced all evening." Darla smiled gracefully and separated her hands from her friends'.
"It will nourish my soul." Madeline said, as she flipped her long dark hair to the side.
"Why do you have to use such verbose language?" For the life of me I could not understand this child.
"Why do you?" Madeline grabbed the pop tart out of the red toaster.
"Because I am 45. You, on the other hand are only 12."
Madeline's whining became louder. "Well, its true, if I go to this retreat it will nourish my soul and send me back refreshed."
I stifled a laugh, these could only be words her father, my ex, had put in her mouth. "That or you will get in trouble with your boyfriend."
My leg swelled, and my breathing became labored. I reached out a hand, grabbing Jeremy's pant leg.
"Bitten." The only word I could muster, trying to show the urgency of my circumstances.
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