Call me, she urged, then felt her skin flush red. Had she really batted her eyelashes coquettishly?
Out of character, out of her league, but her outrageously raging hormones won the day. Even now,
Decades later, she cringes at the memory. Hoping at least that he’s forgotten her flirtatious
Demeanor. Maybe someday she can laugh at her fumbling, mumbling attempt at seduction.
Oh girl, she laments, Whatever possessed you? Age brings wisdom, but ponders regrets.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Doesn’t it just?
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Thank you!
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A fine fret…this.
Regards,
Flint Flirt,
Fargo, North Dakota
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Many thanks! I’ve been to Fargo. For what it’s worth.
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