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A Perfect Ending
By Joyce E Bowling
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
I wrote this story so many years ago, I can't remember the actual date. When I was in college working on my Masters Degree I entered a writing contest...just for the fun. I thought of this story that I had tucked away that I actually had hammered out on an old portable type writer...oops I almost told my age. Anyway, I dug through the many folders of odd and end writings and reserected this story that I think was written in 1982.
A Perfect Ending
Written By: Joyce E Bowling
©Copyright April 18, 2002
“I don't know which was worse, the cigarette smoke, or the foul odor from too many people on the bus.” I lay my head on the back of the worn seat in a vain effort to rest my tired eyes, when I noticed the colorful graffiti displayed on the seat in front of me.
“I wonder who John and Sue Ann are. Do they really love each other, or did someone just scribble that down trying to pass the time on a long, boring bus ride? Who knows? Who cares...” I said as I dug precariously through my overstuffed purse.
“Jane Formbey, you are a lucky lady!” I proclaimed glancing at my reflection in the small compact mirror.
“Excuse me! Were you speaking to me?” ask an elderly man sitting opposite of me. Peering over his small reading glasses he made a frown and returned his attention to the book he had been reading.
“Oh no, please excuse me. I uh, well I suppose I was thinking out loud.”
“Hmm, yes I suppose you were. Youth!” He grumbled to himself, as he returned once again to his book.
“Youth! No one has addressed me as… well, I cannot even remember the last time that someone…oh well, it sure feels good, and I guess I should not really mind that the source of my compliment is probably older than Moses. Now where was I? Ah, yes I remember…home…I can hardly wait.” Closing my eyes for a moment of relaxation, I envisioned the entire evening.
A fire would be burning low in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the candlelight dinner for two. Mmm, buttered lobster prepared to perfection along with fluffy whipped potatoes, fresh garden peas, a crisp green salad, and hot buttered rolls. Oh, and the chocolate cheesecake, how could I forget that? My mouth began watering just thinking about the feast that awaited me.
I envisioned myself gazing romantically across the small table. Sitting opposite of me would be the man that I am so hopelessly in love with. Our eyes would meet. A twinkle from the candlelight would shine in his green eyes sending pulsating surges through my entire body.
“Oh God, I adored this man!” I said aloud. Quickly I turned to see if the elderly gentleman had heard my bold statement. It was apparent from his look of distaste that he had. I didn’t care. I couldn’t help myself. It was those eyes, those green eyes…there was something mysterious, yet sexy about his eyes.
The sound of my own heartbeat brought me back to reality. Dabbing the sweat beads from my forehead with a tissue I felt a tingling sensation in my stomach, once again, my thoughts returned to the lean mass of a man... Oh, what this man does to me almost makes me ashamed of myself. I am still mesmerized each time I gaze into those beautiful green eyes. He renews my spirit with just one glance.
Chills ran up my spine, as I thought of his tender, yet rugged touch and of his soft blonde hair carelessly tossed to one side. Oh, and his smile, I love that smile…it helps carry me through the day. I fall into a thousand pieces and lay helpless at his feet with each smile that brushes across his beautiful lips. My senses were suddenly aroused. I could almost smell his cologne. Excitement surged through my body, just thinking about his wonderful masculine scent.
I was sure that a single red rose would be awaiting me, along with another token of his undying love for me. I never knew what the token would be. Sometimes his gift would be a piece of jewelry or a bottle of perfume and other times candy. It did not matter to me what the token was, just as long as I could have him.
Our conversation will consist of our many mutual interests such as books, music, movies, or our fabulous future together. We will sip champagne from gold trimmed goblets. He will serenade me with one of the many beautiful love songs that he has written just for me.
“Is there any wonder why I adore this man?” I ask myself.
As we finish our champagne, he will put in our favorite music, pull me close, and gently cascade me barefoot across the white Persian rug.
Oh, and with the full moon tonight I can definitely count on a midnight stroll on the beach. We will walk hand in hand, enjoying the warm sand beneath our bare feet and stop to gaze at the clear sky. He will remind me that my eyes shine as bright as the North Star, and how he feels that he is in heaven each time, he holds me in his arms. We will lie down on the warm sand, beneath the starry sky, and imagine what might be beyond them. He will pull me close to his firm muscular body, and hold me safely in his masculine arms, and then pressing his warm, moist lips against my lips, he will passionately quench the desire that is burning within my entire body.
After the passion subsides, we will take a dip in the ocean. The cool ocean water will feel good against our bare skin. The moon will cast a glow over the rippling tide, after our swim we will retire to our bedroom. There we will snuggle beneath our favorite chenille throw in front of a low burning fire and finish the remaining champagne.
“Third Street, last call for Third Street!” came the bus driver’s gruff voice over the old speaker, as the bus came to a screeching halt.
Quickly I gathered my sweater and purse, and stepped down from the bus walking the remainder of the way home my mind still occupied with thoughts of the blonde, green eyed, man that awaited me. As I stepped onto the cobblestone walk, I envisioned the candlelight dinner…
“Hi sweetheart!” I said, as I stepped through the front doorway. “How was your day?”
“Same old routine.” replied John, stretched out on the sagging green sofa, sipping his afternoon beer while watching cartoons with two-year old Ryan. “Oh yeah Jane, your boss called earlier, he says you need to be at work an hour earlier tomorrow. The plumber left a message on the answering machine. He can't make it this evening, say's he will get here soon as he can. Did you know that Rusty has been terrorizing Miss Smiths cat again? She has called three times already this evening. That is one lucky cat! Huh? By the way, what's for supper? We're starved.”
I turned and made my way into the kitchen. “Ah, daydreams are great… but reality you’ve got to love it!” I exclaimed, as I looked around my messy but happy home.
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|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|Joyce, this is a beautiful, well written piece. Very well done; I am glad you are here. You bless me with your words; for that, I thank you. :)
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
|Reviewed by d. k
|This was a wonderful story. Daydreams are the best part of our days. I'm glad you found this story to share with us. I read this with great anticipation. Excellant work!
|Reviewed by CJ Heck
|Oh man, Joyce, you had me ... all the way through the story, you had me! Delightful! I love how you write, my friend.
Many hugs & respect,
|Reviewed by Victor Buhagiar
|Sounds familiar, lazy man expecting his wife to be a slave. Realistic story. Victor|