When the tall stranger steps into my kitchen in his tux asks for coffee and brioche, I’ll slip up to my room don my gown, plait my hair curl with a favorite book in my reading chair. With wind brushing my skin soft music in the air, I won’t invite him in. But when his face appears, I’ll smile and say “Darling, I’ve been waiting here.”
THE TALL STRANGER
Comments
3 responses to “THE TALL STRANGER”
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Reads beautifully, Cynthia! Not sure I would have known the topic if I hadn’t read your tags. Makes perfect sense…
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Thank you, Becky. Perhaps I was a bit too vague.
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I didn’t mean to infer that was a negative, Cynthia. I think that ambiguity in writing is sometimes a good thing for readers to imagine their own meanings.
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