 First Kiss, A special moment in time |
Mosaic Musings...interactive poetry reviews > Prose Forums > Short Stories & Chapters for Critique -> Stonehenge  |
 Dec 10 03, 20:53
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 Egyptian  Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose  |
It happens to us all, no matter how faint hearted or bold, reckless or careful, short or tall, skinny or fat. That event which is so terrifying it will fill us with trepidation, makes the glands go crazy, our hands wet with fear, weak in the knees, basically just down right numb and dumb. The event, when it comes, runs over us like a tractor gone amok, that moment in time when we participate in our first real kiss.
Now I’m not talking about the little peck given as the result of a challenge. Nor the time you were playing house with the girl down the street, and as mother and father you had to kiss each other good-by as one of you headed out to work (in my case a young lass named Judy Kennedy). I am talking about that first down to earth, tender, timid, sound quieting, light dizzying, eternity making or so it seems, lip trembling, first lip-to-lip experience. That first time when your knees go weak, your head gets giddy, eyeballs crossing, and sheer joy union. It is so special, so thrilling, you can’t wait until you do it again. Only to discover, the second, third and following are never as quite the same as that first awesome kiss. Throughout your life you will have special kisses. Someday you will meet that special person, whose kisses will be more important than anything in the world. Those will never replace, nor should it, that first innocent meeting of sensitive skin with another of the opposite sex. That first time, when you suddenly notice the person in front of you is no longer just a friend but something else, something special. This is a story of such an event. It all started one whimsical day in Elwood, Kansas. A sleepy little community, across the Missouri River from St. Joseph, Missouri. Elwood was a small, friendly, down to earth, everyone knows everyone type of riverfront town. Most of the streets were dirt, at that time only one street was paved - the old highway. Elwood didn’t have much of a downtown, not with St. Joseph, a few miles away, just over the bridge. There was a post office, bars, churches, and a town square. Most of the men worked in St. Joe. Hard working men would leave early in the morning, leaving the kids and household duties to the wives. Who in turn would sweep the kids out the door, telling them to come back home for lunch or dinner, whichever came first. This day started like any other. Up early in the morning to Granny Blanche’s cooking. My uncles Denny, Larry and my brother Bob dragged out of bed by their arms and legs, or whatever you could get a hold of, moaning and groaning like old bears. After they finally got the sleep rubbed out of their eyes we would start planning the days activities as we sat around the kitchen table eating our oatmeal. The hot June sun was ready to beat down on us as we ran out the door, banging the screen door, in spite of Granny’s warning. Out to the garage to find Grandpa, because today was the big day, we were going to get to drive the tractor into town and over to the dump. Now to Denny and Larry this was no big deal, but to Bob and me it was special. We never got to drive anything, let alone a tractor. After the usual warnings about keeping the hands and feet away from the crankshaft, we roared off just like we were in an Indy 500 race. Course, roaring on a tractor in those days was a whole 5 – 10 miles per hour. Especially if you are pulling a flat bed behind you, as we were. As we departed, Grandpa told us to check with the neighbors and see if they had anything to haul, especially the Kelly’s down the alley. The Kelly’s lived in a very nice two-story white house right on the corner. Surrounded by a large yard with a chain link fence, the house was quite beautiful. I know I met both the mother and father several times during the many visits but I don’t remember them too well. They had several children, roughly our ages. As it were they were the closest family around with kids our age, so they became our special friends. There was Pat, the oldest girl, a couple of years older than me; Judy, my age; Bonnie the youngest girl; and Mike, the only boy. We would always get together to talk, play, sing or seek adventures. Although Pat was rarely involved as she was too “old” for us kids. We pulled the tractor to the side of their house where the screened in back porch existed. Through that door was the kitchen where wonderful things were created. I walked up the path to the two steps to their back door and knocked. Turning back to the gang on the tractor we exchanged the customary silly and quite stupid funny faces, when Judy answering the door surprised me. When did she start to look like that? She had gotten taller, filled out in unbelievable places, and become down right attractive. Her long neck was graceful and elegant, no longer was it going to be the brunt of jokes. Her hair was done up in a ponytail, and she smelled like … flowers, yeah flowers or something like that, I think but I don’t really remember. All I knew was that she was standing there, and every part of my body was going – hey, heY, hEY, HEY!!! What had happened to my buddy? “Hi Butch,” Judy said to me in a voice as soft as the sound of a humming bird darting amongst the fresh buds. Suddenly the trees burst out in beautiful shades of green. The flowers became more bountiful and brighter. Flowers, where had they come from, I didn’t know they were growing at the side of the house. Then Bonnie stepped up behind Judy. At this time the body was in overload. Alarm bells were sounding, chains were grinding, screeching to a halt, rust started to appear on my vocal cords. Stupefied, I just stood and stared; I couldn’t believe how much they both had changed. Had they changed or was I finally aware of how beautiful they always were? “ Do you want to come in?” Asked Judy with a whisper as soft as the fur on a teddy bear. Teddy Bears!!! What was wrong with me, why was I thinking about teddy bears? “Are you kidding me,” I thought, or should I say I wished I had thought. My mind was so muddled I didn’t know what to say. So in my most forceful rusty manly voice, which I could muster at the time, replied, “We're here to pick up your trash.” My voice cracked three times before I got to the word “pick.” The rest of the words were said in a pitch so high that dogs four blocks away starting whining and yelping. “…pick up your trash,” what a thing to say to these beautiful creatures standing in front of me. Judy with her yellow summer short sleeved blouse, and oh so white shorts, was a vision of the pale sun just emerging from the morning’s mist. “Morning mist,” this was getting ridiculous, I wanted to thunk myself right in the head, but couldn’t. Not right now. Not in front of her. “Oh,” as a disappointed look came across her face, “it’s over there,” she pointed to the shed beside the house. She began to open the door, and being the gentleman that I was brought up to be, I stepped down from the steps to get out of her way. Now this is a dangerous thing for a young boy to do, especially when all of his hormones have just gone crazy. I proceeded to step backwards into space, which in turn plummeted me down on my back driving the wind immediately out of my body. Of course my brother and uncles had a field day with this. I can still hear their laughter today. Judy kneeled down by my side, with a concerned look on her face, “Are you alright?” I couldn’t talk, no air. Oh my God, tears were forming in the corner of my eyes. Blinking rapidly and turning my head to avoid her seeing any form of pain in my face, I glowered at my wonderful family. Standing up, I caught another whiff of her perfume. “Perfume,” when did she start wearing perfume? As she walked me towards the trashcans, big 50-gallon, black steel drums, we visited about the past few months. Every word out of her mouth, floated on the breeze over to my ears, tickling like the humming bird when it drew the nectar from the bud, never disturbing but caressing the blossom with its darting tongue. After putting the barrels on the flat bed we took off, she waving at me as I barely lifted my hand and sort of wiggled it. Course that brought tons of laughter from the gang along with the, “Butchie’s got a girlfriend, Butchie’s got a girlfriend. Why don’t you go kiss her? Smack, smack. Oh Butchie, I love you, you are sooooo cute.” A thumping later, and that stuff stopped right now. For the rest of the day we were quite busy, but somehow I couldn’t get her out of head. When we took the barrels back, she was gone. However, Mike told us they were all going to the fair later. Off we went, homeward bound to drop off the tractor and eat dinner. Excitement was building as we transitioned from trash haulers and grubby boys into young lads ready for the adventures of the carnival. Washing and dressing in a hurry, I dashed out the door leaving the others behind. For the first time in my life I was concerned that my t-shirt was tucked in my jeans just right, and that I smelled good. I had grabbed some of Grandpa’s always ready and handy Old Spice cologne and splashed it on my face and neck. Course I didn’t shave, that wasn’t to happen for a couple of years yet. I ran all the way to the county fairgrounds, my brother and uncles trailing behind, yelling and ranting about my being in such a hurry. I knew she was going to be there, and I had to, just had to, see her again. I scampered about the fair grounds looking for her, when the crowd parted – yeah just like in a movie – and she appeared. There she was, now in a powder blue pull over, I think it is called a blouse with a cap-sleeve. The sleeves just barely covering her shoulders, and that neck of hers so exciting, so inviting. So inviting for what? Why am I noticing her neck, the slight hint of alabaster color, the slender grace, the promise of excitement, just a delicate suggestion of fragrance, invitingly sensuous? I don’t even know what sensuous means, why was I using that word? Gangly, awkwardly I followed her and the group as they visited the dance area. The wonderful world of twirling and undulating bodies, where boy touches girl in a delicate dance as fairies on the meadows. Dancing! “Wake up,” I tell myself, but my ears no longer understand a word I am thinking, nor is my brain, basically nothing is working right. I feel like a zombie in a bad Vincent Price movie. The music is playing and she starts to sway with the beat, my chest constricts, suddenly I can’t breathe. My uncles are calling me to join them on the rides, but I have no desire. I wish only to remain at her side, as she turns and notices me for the first time. She asks me to dance with her. I immediately instruct my right foot to take a hiatus to Japan or somewhere because the only things that show up on my body are two left feet. Gracefully she steps over the rope barrier onto the wooden dance floor, whereas I completely and with such style and grace, catapult into the first and second couples directly in front of us. There I am, in all my glory, on my hands and knees at her feet. Maybe that was where I belonged, groveling never to be held in high esteem in her presence. She smiles and gives me her hand as I slowly start to rise and begin my growth into manhood. “You are lucky you didn’t get hurt, I almost tripped myself.” Her breath smells of peppermint, her teeth so white, evenly spaced, never to have a misplaced morsel lodged in them. Her nose, she has a nose, is straight and graceful in its sweep down to the narrow grove onward to her luscious lips. All placed there by God for my viewing pleasure. “Trip, yeah me fall down.” I said something as equally intelligent, Neanderthal that I had become. Her hand touches mine as the music starts; slowly my other hand drifts like a glacier gone mad to her back, her back. I’m touching her back. There is a God!!! Her back is soft and supple to my touch. A baby, it does, her back feels just like a baby. As she starts to move, her form slides gracefully about the floor, dragging my slowly melting carcass about, for I am unable to move, two left feet – remember. Somehow we struggle through that dance and others as the rest of the evening becomes a blur of her, soft lights and muted sounds. We drifted apart from time to time during the evening as she went with her friends for rides, while I had to tend to my annoying relatives. As the evening progressed a funny thing occurred, we all started to sort of hang together as a larger group. One by one we started to form couples. We would pair up, girl and boy, and partake of a ride together, the Ferris wheel, the carousel, and the Scrambler. We boys rode an old armored personnel carrier around the town square, course the girls thought it was very stupid and childish. The fair was alive with sounds, smells, colors, music, and laughter. It all seemed to center around us, this small group. Slowly the night was coming finally coming to an end. As a group we started to walk back home together. Laughing and talking, we had started to become more than just friends. A belonging was occurring, a sense of something the younger ones would not understand for a few years yet. However, I could comprehend as I was becoming older. A gap was separating between my brother, uncles and I. An awareness was happening to me, a sensation which was easy to grasp, yet difficult to hold, simple to comprehend, yet complex to understand, lighter than a feather, yet heavier than a rock. A budding flower was walking next to me, although she was just thirteen, she was becoming a woman, and I a young man beginning his metamorphosis. Eventually our path reached my grandfathers house. All of us stood outside in the street under the light, Judy, Bonnie, Virginia, Bob, and Denny, two or three others as well. We talked about the fair, the rides and the excitement. Somehow conversation got around to someone making a dare to find out who was the best kisser. Kissing, no way could we be talking about something like that. All I know is that suddenly Judy and I were standing directly in front of each other with everyone else standing either behind us. “Go ahead, kiss her, I dare you,” said my uncle Denny. Bob and Larry joining in as well. Her friends were also daring her. I didn’t know girls dared each other. The night grew quiet as I stood six inches from this winsome beauty. Was she as nervous as me, I’ll never know? Faintly an owl hooted in the dark. The streetlight grew dimmer, or were my eyes going bad, something else I’ll never know. We leaned forward, my trembling, heck they were shaking, arms gently wrapped around her. I took one last intoxicating breath; then our lips met. The world stopped, right then and there. Her lips were as soft as the touch of a butterfly. A slight tremor from her, or me – I’m not sure. No thoughts, no worries, no other people around, just us standing under that streetlight in Elwood, Kansas. Two young people experiencing a gift that no one had ever prepared them for. A wisp of breeze slightly flipped her hair as our lips parted. What did I do? Nothing, I grinned and kept my mouth shut. For if any words had been uttered after that touching the moment would have shattered as a delicate crystal when dropped from a ten-story building. I stood back as I let her walk from my arms, never to have that feeling, that first time awareness ever again in my life. What it meant to her I’ll never discern. Physically, I grew in stature two inches during that kiss. There was more kissing that night under the streetlight, but it wasn’t the same, could never be the same. That one special moment remains frozen in time, never to be touched, or to be altered. Judy and I went our separate ways after that night, whatever happened to her I don’t know. Judy and I never dated; in fact four years later her younger sister, Bonnie and I had a brief relationship. My brother, he dated Virginia off and on over the years, but that relationship never developed. Denny and Larry still live in Elwood, both very successful businessmen. In reflection, I realize I have had special moments all through my life. There were other fairs, other streetlights, parking spots, and drive-ins. Special events have come and gone, each just as important and exciting if not so, such as meeting and falling in love with my wife, our first child, and our first grandchild. I also had many first time kisses that were treasures and special as well. Nevertheless that special night, under that streetlight a young man emerged from the cocoon of childhood. He slowly appeared from a harden husk, to dust off his clothes, flex his wings, and begin his flitting life in a world full of surprises and wonders. The start of that journey began that night in the arms, and with the lips of a young girl whose ember still resides in a special container deep within the chest in a vessel called a heart. ~ Finis ~ Copyright - Emerson H. Sollars - December 2003 Posted as an unpublished work ·······  ······· |
  
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| Guest_Zeus²_* |
Dec 12 03, 07:23
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#2
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Butch,
The word is "Boing" I think we all experienced it at that age.A gal from school, or down the street. What I liked is the ineptness we get at those special moments, everything goes to hell, whatever you had planned goes awry, and you are lucky if you even get to do that first kiss. Has that nice homey down to earth touch.And best of all, the memory never goes away. Larry 
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Dec 12 03, 17:06
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#3
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 Laureate Legionnaire Posts: 1,547 Joined: 4-August 03 From: Jeddah, Saudi Arabia Member No.: 13 Real Name: Daniah Writer of: Poetry |
Hey Butch,
This was a treat to go through... I so enojyed it... :) I never experienced this, due to me upbringing and arranged marriage at an early age. But you have taken me there and I enjoyed your experience... Daniah ······· ·······Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
"A good book is not read and forgotten. It lingers in the mind of the reader, reshaping thoughts, asking new questions, revisiting ancient ones." MM Award Winner     |
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| Guest_orestes_* |
Dec 13 03, 06:33
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#4
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Hi!
Really enjoyed your story. Think that you evoked a certain place and time really well, cleverly interspersing your experiences of then with your more mature, present-day reflections. I really liked the way you mixed past tense with present tense narration, as though certain memories were so vivid that it was impossible for you to just flatly write "I said" or "I did". There was a real sense of the past coming alive for you again as you wrote the story, and that was great to read. I love autobiographical writing -after all, oneself is the only thing that one is really qualified to write about! :) Also, I loved the whole transient nature of the piece; as you say at the end, you never went on to develop your relationship with Judy. Your special moment with her was as fleeting as a dream, yet it has stayed with you ever since, and therefore is just as significant as any of the supposedly more ''meaningful' things in life. It is amazing the way certain isolated moments of time can stand out in our minds forever, no matter how disconnected they are to any of the things we later go on to do in life. Just a few small quibbles. Some of the sentences didn't flow altogether smoothly for me; I pick out one that went "simple to comprehend, yet complex to understand..." I knew what you meant by this, but think maybe you should use "apprehend" instead of "comprehend", given that comprehension and understanding are essentially the same thing. A few lines seemed a bit awkwardly constructed, and may need some refining; although they work well in the stream-of-consciousness nature of the piece. Finally, at times I found your style a little over-metaphorical, especially when you described the physical sensations that first love induces. Maybe a little overkill here, particularly as you are describing something which is familiar to almost everyone, to one degree or another. But you certainly described these feelings very accurately! :) Well done on a really good, enjoyable story. Have a nice day! Stephen
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Dec 15 03, 20:40
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#5
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (orestes @ Dec. 13 2003, 05:33) Hi! Really enjoyed your story. Think that you evoked a certain place and time really well, cleverly interspersing your experiences of then with your more mature, present-day reflections. I really liked the way you mixed past tense with present tense narration, as though certain memories were so vivid that it was impossible for you to just flatly write "I said" or "I did". There was a real sense of the past coming alive for you again as you wrote the story, and that was great to read. I love autobiographical writing -after all, oneself is the only thing that one is really qualified to write about! :) Also, I loved the whole transient nature of the piece; as you say at the end, you never went on to develop your relationship with Judy. Your special moment with her was as fleeting as a dream, yet it has stayed with you ever since, and therefore is just as significant as any of the supposedly more ''meaningful' things in life. It is amazing the way certain isolated moments of time can stand out in our minds forever, no matter how disconnected they are to any of the things we later go on to do in life. Just a few small quibbles. Some of the sentences didn't flow altogether smoothly for me; I pick out one that went "simple to comprehend, yet complex to understand..." I knew what you meant by this, but think maybe you should use "apprehend" instead of "comprehend", given that comprehension and understanding are essentially the same thing. A few lines seemed a bit awkwardly constructed, and may need some refining; although they work well in the stream-of-consciousness nature of the piece. Finally, at times I found your style a little over-metaphorical, especially when you described the physical sensations that first love induces. Maybe a little overkill here, particularly as you are describing something which is familiar to almost everyone, to one degree or another. But you certainly described these feelings very accurately! :) Well done on a really good, enjoyable story. Have a nice day! Stephen Stephen, Thank you for stopping and commenting. Always looking for suggestions and ideas on how to improve, thanks a bunch. I think I understand what you mean and can address, but that would just be a difference of opinion. However, you give great advice and things that I should consider. I have been called a word painter by my friends and family. They tell me I paint with words. Painters do at times have a tendency to overdo, and I will plead guilty as charged. On the other hand, question for you, how do you avoid going into too much detail especially when some readers may have never experienced what you are trying to express? For example, M.M.Kaye is one of those writers who uses 50 sentences to tell you the mountains were purple with white snow on them. Yet Passage to India is a great write, obviously. The comprehend and understand - I did on purpose. Must not have worked well. Simple but complex, sort of like the Rubix cube, only 4 sides to the thing, but how do you get all the colors together. Butch ······· ······· |
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Dec 15 03, 20:46
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#6
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (Zeus² @ Dec. 12 2003, 06:23) Butch, The word is "Boing" I think we all experienced it at that age.A gal from school, or down the street. What I liked is the ineptness we get at those special moments, everything goes to hell, whatever you had planned goes awry, and you are lucky if you even get to do that first kiss. Has that nice homey down to earth touch.And best of all, the memory never goes away. Larry Lar, You are right about the Boing!!! thing. I remember dating one young lady for six months before we ever got to that first kiss, I was terrified of messing up the whole thing. Silly. Kinda reminds of It's A Wonderful Life, when the old guy on the porch yells out, "Go on and kiss her, for gosh sakes. Youth is wasted on the wrong people." I'll have to write about my first blind date, and about meeting my wife. Those are fun stories to write. I have thought about writing about the death of my wife during childbirth, but my current wife says that I still carry to much of the burden and guilt to write the story the way it should be done. But hey, Merry Christmas, what a great season and a great time to be alive. Butch ······· ······· |
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Dec 15 03, 20:51
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#7
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (Siren @ Dec. 12 2003, 16:06) Hey Butch, This was a treat to go through... I so enojyed it... :) I never experienced this, due to me upbringing and arranged marriage at an early age. But you have taken me there and I enjoyed your experience... Daniah Daniah, Thanks for stopping and commenting. Pleased you enjoyed my reminiscing about my youth and awkwardness. It is sometimes hard to identify with the customs of other cultures. However, I have discovered each has so much to offer with the pleasant exchange of stories, and sharing them with one another. Helps break down all those silly barriers. Keep writing - love to read your stuff as well. da Hun 
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Dec 30 03, 13:53
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#8
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Ornate Oracle  Posts: 4,592 Joined: 31-October 03 From: New Jersey Member No.: 39 Real Name: John Writer of: Poetry Referred By:Larry Carr |
I read this story with total focus on enjoyment. You have captured an innocent part of life that for many today is no longer available.
I didn't dissect every sentence, phrase or word, I merely digested the entire piece and found it to be flavored with many crystal clear descriptive images. You have something here that has wide appeal for people of all ages. Thanks for sharing this with us. ······· ·······Give thanks for your new friends of today, but never forget the warm hugs of your yesterdays.
Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! MM Award Winner          |
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Dec 30 03, 20:13
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#9
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (JLY @ Dec. 30 2003, 12:53) I read this story with total focus on enjoyment. You have captured an innocent part of life that for many today is no longer available. I didn't dissect every sentence, phrase or word, I merely digested the entire piece and found it to be flavored with many crystal clear descriptive images. You have something here that has wide appeal for people of all ages. Thanks for sharing this with us. Jly, Thank you so much for stopping by and taking the time to comment. I am pleased you enjoyed my little tale. I too love to read, but have trouble spotting errors and then having the courage to suggest changes. I can tell someone I like it or nice piece, and occasionally can say okay = but not my flavor.  Thanks again, Butch da Hun 
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| Guest_codger_* |
Jan 23 04, 14:59
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#10
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I am so pleased I came across this jem. :)
 I could almost hear "on the street where you live" in the background.  Many will relate to this story---I most certainly do.   Wonderfully written.  Gerry/Codger. |
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Jan 27 04, 19:09
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#11
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (codger @ Jan. 23 2004, 13:59) I am so pleased I came across this jem. :) I could almost hear "on the street where you live" in the background. Many will relate to this story---I most certainly do. Wonderfully written. Gerry/Codger. Thanks Codger, glad you liked it and took the time to comment. I sent it to my cousin who lived in the town at the same time. She read it to her husband and she said he laughed out loud, and stated, yep that's the way it was back then. I am pleased that others enjoy the tales of my youth, and the other pieces I write. da Hun ······· ······· |
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Aug 16 05, 21:28
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#12
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
August 2005 - An update on this story.
The young lady this story is about now has her own copy - via a chapbook. I have been writing short stories for my hometown newspaper, and have received very nice letters from fans. One was particularly nice so I responded with a thank you. After corresponding back and forth, the fan and I realized we knew the same people. The lady is a bit older than me, about 10 years. As we discussed old friends, she remarked that she knew the older sister of the girl in this story. I was furnished the older sisters address and I sent a copy to the older sister. The older sister, of course, did not remember me, however she gave the chapbook to the young lady as a surprise gift. The young lady's remark, "I had no idea that I meant that much to him." Silly girls - anyways. What do we guys have to do, write a story about you? Charon ······· ······· |
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| Guest_Nina_* |
Aug 17 05, 01:11
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#13
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Hi Butch
I hadn't seen this story before. It was a delight to read. You are indeed a word painter and you have painted a vivid picture of that first kiss and the build up to it. it captures a special time forever in print. The girl must have been chuffed to receive such a lovely story about her, a bit of her history to treasure and pass on to her grandchildren. Much enjoyed Nina |
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Aug 18 05, 20:56
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#14
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Egyptian Posts: 431 Joined: 1-August 03 From: Lee's Summit, MO, USA Member No.: 5 Real Name: Butch Writer of: Poetry & Prose |
QUOTE (Nina @ Aug. 17 2005, 02:11) Hi Butch I hadn't seen this story before. It was a delight to read. You are indeed a word painter and you have painted a vivid picture of that first kiss and the build up to it. it captures a special time forever in print. The girl must have been chuffed to receive such a lovely story about her, a bit of her history to treasure and pass on to her grandchildren. Much enjoyed Nina Thanks Nina, for reading and taking the time to comment. Glad you enjoyed my little trip down memory lane. Ah to be 13 again, body wise, but not mind wise. Butch aka Charon ······· ······· |
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| Guest_ferns_* |
Aug 28 05, 14:32
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#15
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Wow..this one sure took me back. I will stop by later for some suggestions, but for right now, I repeat WOW! This is lovely and well written. I can feel this young boy's trepidation and his wonder at all his new feelings. Great read, Butch..You do, indeed, paint with words.
Regards, |
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