About an "unexpected" gift.
Seashells
Ryan took me to our restaurant. Our table is on the patio and overlooks the harbour. A yacht caught my eye, and I imagined it was ours. I brought my glass of wine to my lips and took a sip. I'd selected white wine, of course. Red stains your teeth.
He leaned across the table. "You look beautiful tonight." I couldn't blame him for stating the obvious. He leaned back. "But you could look even better." Was he trying to be funny? I was preparing an insult for him but stopped when he dipped a hand into the pocket of his windbreaker. He withdrew a small box. Omigod! He should be kneeling. He should be—. We should be—. This wasn't the place to—. I snatched the box from his hand and...
"I hope you like them. I made them myself. I found the seashells on that beach." I didn't care to follow his line of sight. I knew what the beach looked like. "After our first date. Try them on."
I knew he'd just keep nagging until I did as instructed, so I carefully removed my expensive diamond earrings and replaced them with... with... his gift. And he smiled. At least one of us was happy.
photo by ldyck
April on this blog...
This month, I indulge my--and hopefully your--love of fiction.
April 27
Finding Her (short story)
When you're lost, sometimes all you need is someone to follow.
Photo by Byron
Without a reader,
A writer's words mean
Nothing
Poet-Tea--Mayne Island's celebration of poetry--review...
At approximately 2:45 pm (15 minutes before the event
