Write Me A Story

"Write me a story.. Please."

The words came softly from her mouth, as she spun around and around in her chair, in front of me, at my desk.

"Please."

Again she asked

"Write me a story."

What about? Which part of your life, do you want it about?

"About how you met me."

She said louder to me.

Which part of our meeting do you want me to start with, my voice inquired of her.

"The part where you stepped on my pickle and then went away to the other room, only to return later to knock the glass from my hand, while rounding the corner to peek at me."

"Do you remember that first meeting?"

Yes.. Only most of it alludes me at this time. You tell me what you recall from that day, just to guide me in the writing of this story you want, OK. That is when she started way earlier that day with all sorts of information that seemed to me, to imply that at some time, that day we were to meet. Wait a minute there, young woman, just the facts. Now lets start again, at the stepping on that pickle. As that is where my eyes had drank your face in totally.

My mind remembers that your eyes, were as if, they were a pool and you were drawing in a water fall into them. It was the sensation of that very moment that made it completely overwhelming to me, and my only thought was to find somewhere to ponder the thoughts swimming around in my head.

When my thoughts and feelings had settled some, my next move was to see for myself. Did these eyes see what they thought they saw? My entrance into the room was stealthy, as not to meet with any attention, not even from you. Only more and more came into the room and it felt as if my body was getting tossed about, as if a ball bouncing in there, for play. It was then that big moose of a fellow, you know that college kid, grabbed for the ball (me). In doing that, he knocked his elbow into the side of my face. That pushed me then, right into you, standing there watching all that was happening, as if viewing a movie.

Up flew your glass of lemon soda, of which the soda it self landed on the top of my head and poured straight down my face. Blocking any view of any thing in the area, even you. That is when my arms jetted out to reach for
something to remove that soda from my face, and to see what was in motion just then. Thus, your glass had bounced off your head and flew right in front of me, where my foot found it and stepped on it, crushing it into small pieces, there before your naked feet.

Moving her way to me in that impish way of hers, she said,

"And.., what happen.., then?"

Well.., as the moose kept falling towards our direction, my thought was, that you needed lifting out of there. with your bare feet and all, of course with all of that glass spewed everywhere on the floor.
You needed rescuing.

That is when she pulled me away from the desk while still in my chair, and straddled me, while undoing my shirt buttons. Saying.

"Come on baby, get to the part where you got all of those thanks from me, in your mothers library."

Um.., We can't put that down in this story, what if kids or others, or some of our family members reads this? Tell you what! You grab the lemon soda and meet me in the library, that way we can reenact it all over again.

Just the way you captured me with your smile, then.

Anyway.., Lets keep everybody else guessing about what's about to happened next.