Story Time With E.A. Smyer

10/28/2023

I just wrote a steamy love scene then said to myself out loud, “Girl yes!”

11/17/2022

Time to see beyond. To look. Take in. Respond. To keep to self. Reflect. To have. To hold. Neglect. Let those with wings go, fly. Time to let time go, bye! Or Buy? I can’t even dream of a time when all of the time was just mine!Time never stood still for me. No time to let my hair fall free. It was always a tug of war. The next time worse than before. But today, is a day all my own. Time to let time be my throne. As I sit and embrace empty space. In this body and this poker face. Full of everyone else’s demands. Decompress- I’ve got time on my hands!
Amonet

07/13/2022

🏋🏾‍♀️ Working out 🏋🏾‍♀️

05/28/2022

THE NEXT ONES

Written by E.A. Smyer

Illustration by Angela Maxson WithLoveInMind

There had been a change.

Conditions were harsh. Sweet became sour. Food that was once filling had become poison. The ground below melted into mud. The sky opened and began to rain, and rain, and rain, and rain. Many stood by and watched their everything float away to new unknown destinations. Great mountains chipped away to the oceans below. Other places with dry fields of grass spontaneously combusted into the next great wild fire. Claiming casualties in the wake. Terrain carefully mapped on geographic diagrams were no longer accurate. New land masses arose in distant oceans – uninhabited, new, different. Everything, every place, and everyone was different. All things had changed.

Some noted warning signs early. They did their best to stage an intervention. Life was becoming unsustainable. They panicked. They recruited others to panic alongside them. They decided the best course of action was to eject themselves from the surface in search of a new home amongst the stares. Teams were assembled. Crafts were built. They were boarded by an exclusive few. Then launched into the atmosphere. Never to be seen again.

Those left behind were in pursuit of other solutions. Operation Survival was paramount. Sectors of civilization broke into focus groups. Everyone from grade school through ages of degeneration were encouraged to participate. There was no bad idea. A viable solution would take a collective effort from everyone on the planet if they were to survive. A diagnosis was determined. A cure was sought. They believed the world’s death could be reversed. They tried, and tried, and tried again, until the end.

Others feared the Gods were angry. The wrath of holy fury was upon them. They dropped to their knees and began to pray. Subverting themselves into a life of penance and punishment. Driven by faith, they sought forgiveness for they knew not what they’d done.

They great many however, chose to deny. Desperate to hold on to parts of life that no longer mattered. They towed the line of the status quo. It was not until the unforgiving elements were inescapable when they decided to act. But what arrangements could they make on such short notice? It could not be changed with gentle compromise or brute force. Their last-minute efforts were futile.

The world continued like this, barriers collapsing, land masses changing, people succumbing, until the end. Except the lucky ones. Adaptors. Their genetics were savvy enough to evolve with the world. As the biosphere changed so did they. They incubated in the chaos. Born into an environment that suited them just fine. They were in their element. Part human part something else. In this life they were King. They were the beginning. []

© E.A. Smyer – May 23, 2022 – All rights reserved by the author
- [] Fiction

09/25/2020

GRANDMA’S HOUSE
By E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

A deep bass rhythm played through the speakers as they sat in Yusuf’s mother’s living room. Her nimble onyx ringed fingers rolled a spliff then she wordlessly pulled a lighter from her bra, lit the end, and took a deep pull.

Everyone held their breath as her all knowing honey colored eyes peered through the souls of her son and daughter-in-law; discerning the purpose for their visit. Masked illusions stood bare in her presence. She had that gift. Even the figurines atop the shelves seemed to be waiting for her to exhale.

“Looks like y’all need some time alone. Why don’t you bring the kids by to spend a few days with me?” It was more of a statement than a question. Her knowing heart also understood that her daughter-in-law, Celeste, would take issue with this assertion.

“Thank you Ms. Tamika. We certainly appreciate the offer but Yusuf and I would hate to impose.” Celeste spoke from a tiny ball of courage at the back of her throat while tightening her grip on Yusuf’s hand, begging him to agree.

“They are her grandchildren Celeste!” Yusuf rejected his wife’s plea through clinched teeth.

Ms. Tamika starred at Celeste, while the deep base rhythm continued, then blew smoke from the side of her mouth, quilling her daughter-in-law’s immediate fear. “I won’t smoke while they’re here.” Outing the spliff that hardly seemed to burn. “You don’t have to worry. They will be in good hands. I’ve raised many children.” She rose from her armchair to attend to the teapot that began to whistle on the stove. Her tiny frame and thick halo of hair moved quickly to the rear of the house. “Don’t argue,” she offered, “talk.” Then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Why do you always act an ass?” Celeste snapped as soon as Ms. Tamika was out of sight; crossing her arms in a huff.

“Don’t fight me on this.” Yusuf refuted. “You know she’s right.”

Celeste walked around the living room taking in the site of incense burning amidst lumpy statues while curious masks decorated the walls, “Really, what does all of this mean?” Deflecting from the matter at hand to avoid the inevitable.

“You’re talking about my mother.”

“....but that’s exactly it Yusuf.” She whispered. “The children are afraid of her.”

“They love her. You’re afraid of her.”

“Stop that!” Celest feigned hurt surprise at the accusation. “You know I think she’s sweet but she does make me uneasy.” She said glamouring her husband with innocent eyes of honesty.

Yusuf softened his approach, pulling his wife close by her waist, “She’s right. We haven’t been alone in some time.” His voice was deep and gentle. They silently swayed to the music in Ms. Tamika’s sun-lite living room. “I need you in a special way,” then kissed Celeste on the neck.

Celeste was powerless under his influence. The tension in her body melted at his welcomed touch, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in weeks.

Celeste stroked his back while she examined her heart. She admitted to herself that her boys did love staying at Grandma Tamika’s and she and Yusuf could spend some time being husband and wife.

“You know what I think?” Celeste whispered into her husband’s chest. “I think the kids should spend some time at grandmas house.” []

- [ ] (c) E.A. Smyer- September 7, 2020 - All rights reserved by the author
- [ ] Fiction

08/01/2020

Getting in some writing-reps 💪🏾🖊📔🤓

01/01/2020

*Click *Read *Enjoy

IT HAD TO BE
By: E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

“Baby.” Joyce Erica called down from the upstairs bedroom closet. Her husband LaKeith was just settling in on the couch downstairs for an afternoon movie. It was Saturday and their boys were at his sister's house for the weekend.

“Yeah?” he yelled back while scrolling through a list of movies on the television, Mo Better Blues, a Spike Lee joint. One of Joyce Erica’s favorites.

“I want to show you something.” She called down, sounding giddy.

LaKeith took a deep breath. This woman never lets him sit down. He’s already mowed the lawn and washed both cars. He even took a shower. IT’S MY DAY OFF, he kept to himself. He didn’t want a weekend argument with Joyce Erica. She probably only needs him to build a fence or slay a dragon. Nothing too outrageous.

When he got upstairs Joyce Erica met him at their bedroom door. Beaming, “I was cleaning my closet and look what I found! Remember this?” Holding an old peach-colored flowery dress against her body. It was pretty in a once-upon-a-time type of way. She was glowing with excitement.

Seeing her like this always made him smile, “I can’t forget it.” Memories of her in that dress came flooding back to him. In one swift move, he picked his wife up and carried her to their bed. “What are you doing to me Mrs. Richman?” He growled like a bear and she giggled like a girl. They were once again love-struck, reliving the passion of their twenties. ..

9 Years Earlier:

On a Friday morning, Joyce Erica read her daily horoscope. It said she would find luck and love. She crossed her fingers because she could use some of both. That afternoon she bumped into an old friend and became a last-minute invite to her wedding the next day. Her good fortune continued, when she arrived home that evening, there was an early birthday gift from her mother waiting on her doorstep. A dress. A peach-colored flowery dress that would be perfect for a wedding. Everything in her spirit watched for love on the horizon.

LaKeith was the Best-man operating in his utmost extraordinary peak flyness - if he may say so himself; because he did. During the toast, he opened with, “Thank y’all for getting married, just so I can operate at my UTMOST extraordinary peak flyness.” He got a good laugh from the crowd, including Joyce Erica, who rolled her eyes at his well-delivered arrogance. Her red-lipped smile sent electric waves through his chest.

His joke made him popular the remainder of the reception. Women leaned, giggled, smiled, and walked in his direction, stopping for a bit of conversation. He quickly became occupied with a steady stream of visitors to his table. Making it nearly impossible to cruise the room to find his mystery lady.

Joyce Erica sat on the opposite side of the room managing her own flow of company. In particular a former boyfriend, Curtis Verse, who spent a considerable amount of time chatting her up about the origins of marriage as a concept. Constantly preaching - never listening. She was polite, offering
weak smiles while she scanned the room for the love of her life.

After what felt like hours of talk she escaped The Verse by hiding in the lady's room for a while. Always the guardsman, he waited outside the door, drinks in hand, to walk her back to the table while making his thesis statement on Mesopotamian marriage in 2350 B.C. She was stuck in a prison of boredom.

Disappointment loomed as The Verse got cozy pressing forward with more mundane observations and Joyce Erica’s King nowhere to be seen. The foretold love turned blunder. She prepared to make the ultimate decision. She prepared to go home.

LaKeith seemed to sense her despair from across the room. He stood to find the woman with the red-lipped smile who’d been haunting his mind all evening reaching for her coat. The sight of her demanded a short pause to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He was baited by the way that dress wrapped her curves in the most alluring manner, bidding him closer, to smell her, make her laugh, taste her. She was the single rose in a field of daffodils.

Instinctively, he made his way across the room towards her, his confidence increased with every step. He was undeterred to find Curtis hovering over her. LaKieth refused to allow his flower to leave, to never know her name, or what she felt like was not an option. Upon reaching her, he offered his hand for a dance.

Relieved, Joyce Erica excepted LaKieth’s invitation, allowing The Verse to fade into the background along with the other party-goers. Her king had arrived, valiantly freeing her from the knowledge spitting dragon.

As if by divine DJ intervention Beauty in the Dark began to play. The electricity between them flowed freely as they held each other close. His heart was no match for her beauty. With his hands on her waist, he never wanted to leave her side and she knew he was the one her spirit was destined to meet.

One dance led to a life of love. Together they built a family and a home.

- [ ] (C) E.A. Smyer- August 22, 2019 - All rights reserved by the author
- [ ]
Fiction

01/01/2020

*Click *Read *Enjoy

YOU MAKE ME FEEL GOOD
By: E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

It was Shii’s turn for Karaoke. She was going to kill the room with her rendition of Prince’s Do Me Baby. Friday night shenanigans at her apartment was the highlight of her week.

Unfortunately, only Tejrick would be there to witness her grand performance. Everyone else left for study group.

The song started and Shii jumped into character, making sexy Prince-eyes at her lone audience member. The sentiment of the song eluded through her as she sang along, “Here we are....” Her gaze was held on him. Slowly, she walked closer. By the time she got to, “Let’s stop fooling around,” Tejrick had melted into a two-hundred-pound puddle of honey and was ready to give her all of him.

He seized the moment. In one quick motion he pulled her into him then pressed his lips tenderly against hers. The scent of coconut and sugar filled her curls.

Shii, shocked, pushed Tejrick away as she started for the door. “We are friends!” She nearly shouted. Her forehead knitted with confusion.

Tejrick, also surprised, recanted, “I thought we were having a moment.” Then sank onto the couch’s arm.

“We most certainly were not! We were karaoke-ing!” Her hand on the door k**b while she contemplated sending him home.

“You were singing to me, getting closer, I thought... Sorry.” He apologized. His pride only slightly wounded. He’d hoped for a more favorable response. His body, soul, and mind believed they’d elevated to next level together.

Neither moved as Prince continued in the background. He remained on the couch and she stayed by the door. Their emotions settled into the newness unfolding between them.

Tejrick was not Shii’s type; he was an intellectual on a full science scholarship, wore large glasses, told three-layered jokes, and had a strange hump on his nose. He’d been her math tutor turned friend who helped her navigate her senior year. She invited him to Friday-Funday because she felt bad for him. She knew he would be spending the weekend in his dorm room with his lizard, Gary, developing scientific theories. (Snores).

Tejrick dreaded the idea of another weekend with Gary. He was eager to accept the invitation, the first to arrive, brought snacks, and had the most fun - that was clear.

Eventually, Prince faded out. The music was replaced with a quiet hum from the speakers.

“My Prince impression is amazing.” She stated, slicing through the thickness in the air.

“I’ll remember it forever.” He responded too quickly. He felt challenged with baring his soul or walking away in defeat. He chose to say what was on his mind, “I know you see me Shii. You are right, let’s stop fooling around. I’m here for you.” Calm courage burned in his eyes.

“Bars.” She joked, mocking his poetry. Under the exterior of genius lie someone who was just a man, seeking what men seek - feeding the angst of his desire. She recognized the chemistry he was sending and decided to be forthcoming , “I’m in relationship with myself, and I am good to me. I am not looking for anyone.”

“But here I am anyway.” He retorted.

“It’s late.” Shii said and opened the door. She had to break his spell. For the first time he started to have an affect on her.

Tejrick didn’t argue, he understood it was time to leave. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and as he passed her at the doorway took another chance. “Let me take you out.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Asking. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Addicted to living in the moment, Shii agreed. She felt herself being pulled back under his enchantment.

“You make me feel good Shii.” Then leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “I’ll slow down. You need time think.” He walked away to leave her with her thoughts.

Shii was baffled by the phantom reverberations of his soft lips - she enjoyed each echo. That night Tejrick started to look different. His glasses were suddenly adorable, the hump in his nose invisible, his scientific pursuits alluring, and his eagerness exciting. Her mind spun.

Shii watched him walk away. Taking in his musk that lingered on her shirt - a welcomed phenomenon. Excited to see Tejrick again the next day. A warm sensation rushed over her - soothing an ache deep inside that had gone ignored for years.

She looked forward to tomorrow.

(C) E.A. Smyer- December 1, 2019 - All rights reserved by the author

- Fiction

12/21/2019

I mean... if you’re not doing anything you can always read one of these stories and even share them with your friends ☺️

12/16/2019

YOU MAKE ME FEEL GOOD
By: E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

It was Shii’s turn for Karaoke. She was going to kill the room with her rendition of Prince’s Do Me Baby. Friday night shenanigans at her apartment was the highlight of her week.

Unfortunately, only Tejrick would be there to witness her grand performance. Everyone else left for study group.

The song started and Shii jumped into character, making sexy Prince-eyes at her lone audience member. The sentiment of the song eluded through her as she sang along, “Here we are....” Her gaze was held on him. Slowly, she walked closer. By the time she got to, “Let’s stop fooling around,” Tejrick had melted into a two-hundred-pound puddle of honey and was ready to give her all of him.

He seized the moment. In one quick motion he pulled her into him then pressed his lips tenderly against hers. The scent of coconut and sugar filled her curls.

Shii, shocked, pushed Tejrick away as she started for the door. “We are friends!” She nearly shouted. Her forehead knitted with confusion.

Tejrick, also surprised, recanted, “I thought we were having a moment.” Then sank onto the couch’s arm.

“We most certainly were not! We were karaoke-ing!” Her hand on the door k**b while she contemplated sending him home.

“You were singing to me, getting closer, I thought... Sorry.” He apologized. His pride only slightly wounded. He’d hoped for a more favorable response. His body, soul, and mind believed they’d elevated to next level together.

Neither moved as Prince continued in the background. He remained on the couch and she stayed by the door. Their emotions settled into the newness unfolding between them.

Tejrick was not Shii’s type; he was an intellectual on a full science scholarship, wore large glasses, told three-layered jokes, and had a strange hump on his nose. He’d been her math tutor turned friend who helped her navigate her senior year. She invited him to Friday-Funday because she felt bad for him. She knew he would be spending the weekend in his dorm room with his lizard, Gary, developing scientific theories. (Snores).

Tejrick dreaded the idea of another weekend with Gary. He was eager to accept the invitation, the first to arrive, brought snacks, and had the most fun - that was clear.

Eventually, Prince faded out. The music was replaced with a quiet hum from the speakers.

“My Prince impression is amazing.” She stated, slicing through the thickness in the air.

“I’ll remember it forever.” He responded too quickly. He felt challenged with baring his soul or walking away in defeat. He chose to say what was on his mind, “I know you see me Shii. You are right, let’s stop fooling around. I’m here for you.” Calm courage burned in his eyes.

“Bars.” She joked, mocking his poetry. Under the exterior of genius lie someone who was just a man, seeking what men seek - feeding the angst of his desire. She recognized the chemistry he was sending and decided to be forthcoming , “I’m in relationship with myself, and I am good to me. I am not looking for anyone.”

“But here I am anyway.” He retorted.

“It’s late.” Shii said and opened the door. She had to break his spell. For the first time he started to have an affect on her.

Tejrick didn’t argue, he understood it was time to leave. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and as he passed her at the doorway took another chance. “Let me take you out.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Asking. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Addicted to living in the moment, Shii agreed. She felt herself being pulled back under his enchantment.

“You make me feel good Shii.” Then leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “I’ll slow down. You need time think.” He walked away to leave her with her thoughts.

Shii was baffled by the phantom reverberations of his soft lips - she enjoyed each echo. That night Tejrick started to look different. His glasses were suddenly adorable, the hump in his nose invisible, his scientific pursuits alluring, and his eagerness exciting. Her mind spun.

Shii watched him walk away. Taking in his musk that lingered on her shirt - a welcomed phenomenon. Excited to see Tejrick again the next day. A warm sensation rushed over her - soothing an ache deep inside that had gone ignored for years.

She looked forward to tomorrow.

(C) E.A. Smyer- December 1, 2019 - All rights reserved by the author

- Fiction

09/20/2019

Since reading is fundamental ya’ll should share my stories with your friends.
IJS 💁🏾‍♀️

09/14/2019

IT HAD TO BE
By: E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

“Baby.” Joyce Erica called down from the upstairs bedroom closet. Her husband LaKeith was just settling in on the couch downstairs for an afternoon movie. It was Saturday and their boys were at his sister's house for the weekend.

“Yeah?” he yelled back while scrolling through a list of movies on the television, Mo Better Blues, a Spike Lee joint. One of Joyce Erica’s favorites.

“I want to show you something.” She called down, sounding giddy.

LaKeith took a deep breath. This woman never lets him sit down. He’s already mowed the lawn and washed both cars. He even took a shower. IT’S MY DAY OFF, he kept to himself. He didn’t want a weekend argument with Joyce Erica. She probably only needs him to build a fence or slay a dragon. Nothing too outrageous.

When he got upstairs Joyce Erica met him at their bedroom door. Beaming, “I was cleaning my closet and look what I found! Remember this?” Holding an old peach-colored flowery dress against her body. It was pretty in a once-upon-a-time type of way. She was glowing with excitement.

Seeing her like this always made him smile, “I can’t forget it.” Memories of her in that dress came flooding back to him. In one swift move, he picked his wife up and carried her to their bed. “What are you doing to me Mrs. Richman?” He growled like a bear and she giggled like a girl. They were once again love-struck, reliving the passion of their twenties. ..

9 Years Earlier:

On a Friday morning, Joyce Erica read her daily horoscope. It said she would find luck and love. She crossed her fingers because she could use some of both. That afternoon she bumped into an old friend and became a last-minute invite to her wedding the next day. Her good fortune continued, when she arrived home that evening, there was an early birthday gift from her mother waiting on her doorstep. A dress. A peach-colored flowery dress that would be perfect for a wedding. Everything in her spirit watched for love on the horizon.

LaKeith was the Best-man operating in his utmost extraordinary peak flyness - if he may say so himself; because he did. During the toast, he opened with, “Thank y’all for getting married, just so I can operate at my UTMOST extraordinary peak flyness.” He got a good laugh from the crowd, including Joyce Erica, who rolled her eyes at his well-delivered arrogance. Her red-lipped smile sent electric waves through his chest.

His joke made him popular the remainder of the reception. Women leaned, giggled, smiled, and walked in his direction, stopping for a bit of conversation. He quickly became occupied with a steady stream of visitors to his table. Making it nearly impossible to cruise the room to find his mystery lady.

Joyce Erica sat on the opposite side of the room managing her own flow of company. In particular a former boyfriend, Curtis Verse, who spent a considerable amount of time chatting her up about the origins of marriage as a concept. Constantly preaching - never listening. She was polite, offering
weak smiles while she scanned the room for the love of her life.

After what felt like hours of talk she escaped The Verse by hiding in the lady's room for a while. Always the guardsman, he waited outside the door, drinks in hand, to walk her back to the table while making his thesis statement on Mesopotamian marriage in 2350 B.C. She was stuck in a prison of boredom.

Disappointment loomed as The Verse got cozy pressing forward with more mundane observations and Joyce Erica’s King nowhere to be seen. The foretold love turned blunder. She prepared to make the ultimate decision. She prepared to go home.

LaKeith seemed to sense her despair from across the room. He stood to find the woman with the red-lipped smile who’d been haunting his mind all evening reaching for her coat. The sight of her demanded a short pause to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He was baited by the way that dress wrapped her curves in the most alluring manner, bidding him closer, to smell her, make her laugh, taste her. She was the single rose in a field of daffodils.

Instinctively, he made his way across the room towards her, his confidence increased with every step. He was undeterred to find Curtis hovering over her. LaKieth refused to allow his flower to leave, to never know her name, or what she felt like was not an option. Upon reaching her, he offered his hand for a dance.

Relieved, Joyce Erica excepted LaKieth’s invitation, allowing The Verse to fade into the background along with the other party-goers. Her king had arrived, valiantly freeing her from the knowledge spitting dragon.

As if by divine DJ intervention Beauty in the Dark began to play. The electricity between them flowed freely as they held each other close. His heart was no match for her beauty. With his hands on her waist, he never wanted to leave her side and she knew he was the one her spirit was destined to meet.

One dance led to a life of love. Together they built a family and a home.

- [ ] (C) E.A. Smyer- August 22, 2019 - All rights reserved by the author
- [ ]
Fiction

08/09/2019

In grandma voice:
I can see my little story been read 141 times. 👵🏽
Thank you babies.

08/06/2019

SHE SMILED
By: E.A. Smyer
Illustration: WithLoveInMind - Angela Maxson

“Excuse me ma’am. I really don’t think you should be doing that in your condition.” Shelby was honestly concerned as he pointed to the woman’s pudgy belly.

“What the f**k was I thinking? Why should I try to enjoy myself on a Friday night like every other red blooded American?” Her sarcasm supremely delivered. She gave him a polite customer-service style get-the-hell-out-my-face look then pushed through the store’s exit doors.

She stepped quickly while digging through her purse; searching for her keys. She wanted to get in her car and get away from there. She knew she needed to add exercise to her day. It seemed like her work was never done. Another item to add to her fully packed itinerary. From five in the morning until ten o’clock at night every minute of her day was accounted for. She was at the dispensary to purchase her items and make time for relaxation from a hectic week. Not deal with unsolicited criticism from a stranger. There truly is no rest for the weary. Heat from forming tears turned her eyes red.

She made it halfway to her car when he tapped her on the shoulder. She stopped walking and turned around in haste, ready to defend what was left of her pride. Shelby managed to stop her in her trek. She had to blink twice. She didn’t get a good look at him the first time. He couldn’t have been older than 27. Tall, at least 6’4”, smooth brown skin, with deep dimples. His waves were at work making a 360 degree pattern around his head. Slanted eyes. She could see he never missed arm day at the gym. He was beautiful. The construction uniform was an added compliment to his everything. “Who is this guy?” She thought to herself. Careful not to give herself away. All while pushing back the water in her eyes; commanding the drops not to fall.

He too was caught off guard. Tears? He didn’t expect tears. “Ma’am.” He struggled to find his voice in his throat. She was tough a moment ago. How did all of that melt away so quickly? “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just think that, uh...” He could not find any words. He had no intention of making her cry. He found himself in an emotional landmine. He had to choose his next steps carefully.

She decided that he was beautiful and dense, which helped her hold back the sting in her tone, “I understand I’m at a dispensary, but I’m not pregnant. I just look like this. So, there is no harm in me having this little bit of w**d. You have a good night sir.” She walked away; shaking off another attack from Mr. Bold and Beautiful.

There was no way possible she could be pregnant she reminded herself as she continued to her car. She hadn’t been with a man in more than a year. The last guy she dated got home sick around the time of his ex’s birthday and moved back to Florida. Now they are getting married. She was left alone with hot cheesy bread as her middle of the night comfort. Effectively filling the void. She hardly noticed the year long weight gain. She was a cute 33-year-old and just knew her curves were bending correctly in all the right places; except her belly, just a little. It always stuck out more than she could control. Turns out people probably smiled at her because they thought a baby was on the way.

Just as she was opening the car door there was a tap on her shoulder yet again. She turned around, this time, ready for his babble or his bumble.

“My name is Shelby.” His voice was unexpectedly deep causing satin vibrations to travel down her spine. “On everything holy, what does this man want!” Again she kept her thoughts to herself. She stood there waiting with the patience of a saint for him to make the next move. He obviously had some goal to accomplish.

“I want to wipe your tears and know your name.” He said.

She mentally fainted. It wasn’t even October and here she was trick or treating. Which one would this man be? Trick or treat?

In her silence he opened his arms for an embrace. Now he was the patient one, waiting for her to except his invitation.

Her inhibitions that normally stood guard were caressed by the gentility of his face, his deep rumbling voice, and towering stature. He looked like home. She defied all logic excepting the affection of a stranger. She leaned her head against his chest, immediately comforted by the warmth of his body. All the problems of the world suspended in time. The only thing that mattered was that moment. His strong arms cradled every pain she ever felt, supported her wins, and smoothed her rough edges. It was exactly what she needed....But, reality beckoned. It quickly became time to let that moment pass. When she released him all the tears had been dried from her eyes and her hold on the world restored. She looked him in his brown eyes, “Lissett. My name is Lissett.” She smiled.

- [ ] (C) E.A. Smyer- July 18, 2019 - All rights reserved by the author

- Fiction