In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Race the Clock.”
“An Offer I Couldn’t Refuse.” Set a timer for ten minutes, and write it. Go!
It was already a late night when we finished our drinks. Almost midnight. Not bad for a first date. The liquid courage extinguished any and all signs of nervous ticks. We were all smiles and moved on to touching hands, shoulders. Questions and quaint interrogations about his job, family, origins, and recent divorce had killed the first two hours of conversation.
Those green eyes. The months of unwanted celibacy. At 41, could a walk of shame be reason for slut shaming?
Four years later…Earth Day is the anniversary of our one night stand still celebrated. (HEY now!)