Going to the bookstore is one of my favorite things to do. But lately…Well let’s just say it has taken on a new meaning. Whether I’m alone- and yes- also in the company of my husband, I’ve been checking out more than books. It’s women! As they pass me by, I’m unable to suppress the urge to scope out the redheads. It has become a ritualistic indulgence.
On a recent trip by myself, I was feeling a little bummed over a life situation. I had taken a journal with me in hopes of pouring my woes into my writing. While fragmented ideas swirled in my head, I wasn’t inspired to put them on paper. Then, like a lightning strike, a young girl- probably of college age- sat down at the table directly in front of me. Although she wasn’t my preferred redhead- blonde instead- she was petty.
Immediately, I was intrigued, even smitten. As time elapsed, I found myself completely swept away. She exuded a certain aura. If she noticed- or was unnerved by my not-so-subtle, stalker-like leering, she never let on. Soon she abruptly rose from her seat and headed towards me. My body actually jolted with fear. Oh shit, I’m busted!
I was afraid to meet her eyes, but I didn’t want to look like a coward. Channeling a shred of bravado- my breath suspended- I met her hypnotic green eyes. Luckily, she only wanted me to watch her table while she went to the ladies room. Phew! I wasn’t being chewed out for my prying eyes.
Almost immediately among her absence, a spark of creativity was infused. Once again I am submerged, as a naughty scenario plays out in my mind.
To be continued…