A gust of wind swept in, bringing winter's chill into produce, and a silver haired door-greeter looked over—perturbed.
“Make up your mind, pal, in-or-out,” and that’s all it took. My Scottish dreamboat casually strolled across the threshold, his man in tow.
At this point, I grew shy. What would he think of me? There was no denying I was a big-boned gal, and in my uncertainty, I tucked behind a tower of avocados, my golden curls spilling into my eyes, watching the man loop a blue basket over one arm.
“C’mon, Scotty,” he said and they walked straight toward... the avocados!
I looked around, panicked. My lady held a dark-hued Hass in each hand—squeezing for ripeness. Such antics. What would they think?
Scotty dragged his companion to the spot in which I stood, and the man went to work—squeezing avocados. He juggled a bright green specimen, hand-to-hand, and glanced at my lady, a shy smile on his lips.
“It’s taco night,” he said, an attempt at conversation, and my lady said, “Hmmm,” and kept digging.
My attention came around to Scotty and I hunkered while he cordially sniffed my butt, getting to know me. I turned to do the same, ecstatic to learn he was old... and fixed, for I was well past my prime.
“Aha!” They spyed their quest at the same time, their hands intertwining while reaching for the same gnarled Hass. They locked eyes and sparks began to fly.
Lisa H. Owens, a former humorist columnist, resides in North Texas with two senior rescue dogs and a possum named Harry who lives under her backyard shed. Her stories are sometimes inspired by true events, including family secrets, and her work's been published in dozens of ezines and multi-genred anthologies.
No comments:
Post a Comment