Call Me

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.

Ludwig Stutz, “Flirtation in the Garden.”

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.

4 thoughts on “Call Me”

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