The editor-in-chief (moi) seen here discussing ghost writing with intern
Who among us can stop at a single sip of Sheri?
Sheri Strobaugh has delivered her second entry into our contest Wing Nuts.
No Title? Hmnn. I will give it a title…let’s see… How about
Something in the way he swazye
by Sheri Strobaugh
Their bodies swayed to music on this sweltering day at The Old Duchess Inn. Idle chatter and random squeals lightened the room. An occasional breeze filtered through the stagnant remnants of booze filled breaths.
He didn’t see me, didn’t look my way, didn’t feel me. Guess I’ll just have to wing it. I sauntered my sexiest sway, paused as I past him, my finger delicately lining his jawbone. He let in a gasp and turned in a jolt.
His friends laughed, “Hey man, you’re white as a ghost! You need another scotch?” Hedidn’t say anything. He just kept touching his chilled jawbone. A hint of jasmine lingered in the air. He gazed across the bar scanning anything remotely familiar… after a minute, he let it (me) go.
I’m right here, the same spot where we met years ago when this place was one of elegance and grandeur. I was at the beginning of a wondrous journey with my wingman. Why was I taken? Why do I wait for him every day in hopes he will see me? He was the same man I fell in love with, only time had made him more beautiful.
I won’t cross over without a goodbye! I can’t! With a feeling of urgency, I ran to him,pressed my body into his and fused our souls together. He looked into my eyes, yes my eyes. said goodbye as our tears flowed and disappeared into the white light…