It was Sunday morning when Sheila knocked on my door at 7 a.m., handing my sleepy hands a still warm Dutch apple pie. She noticed I looked perplexed, a usual condition, and said, did you expect cherry. In truth I expected neither since I’d only met Susan the night before as we sat on barstools at the No Name Bar, each trying to figure out if bedding was in our future. Her eyes and my demeanor should have signaled I didn’t expect the aroma of apples at near dawn. But still pie-eyed I let her in. Cherry pie be damned.
Sue Clayton
29/10/2022 08:12:57 am
Sheila definitely knows the way to a man's ...
Cindy Patrick
1/11/2022 12:59:11 am
This is a sweet beginning to any relationship... Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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