By the Light of the Silvery Moon
Penelope. Her name melted like the kiss of snowflakes on my tongue. As I was locking up the place, I still saw her in the middle of the showroom. Hand on one narrow hip, ordering her embarrassment of a father back to the car. Her shoulders didn’t droop and her hips didn’t swing when she fled.
“You like her, do you?” My father watched me watch her. Before I could reply, he whispered, “You can’t go falling for a poor farmer’s tomboy. Don’t even look like a girl.”
I ignored him and spit-shined a Thunderbird’s back end.
“She’s beneath you. Beneath us. You know it?”
I left without answering him. Rode with the top down and watched the moon slide up over the horizon, scattered moon beams on the river. If I wished on that light with all my might, could I love Penelope?
Could she be the reason I was forced to come back here?
But.
Maybe she saw right through me, and that’s why she ran out of there so fast. When she wheeled out of the lot, though, she looked back. Locked her eyes on mine. I know I saw a crooked smile, and it’s that upturned line that might change everything.
A fiction series. Long overdue. Because, you must be well-and-truly-sick of reading about my life by now. So, what happened to that door? A series of possibilities. I’ll explore one or several. If it was even a door I passed at an intersection on the way to an appointment. Read the first installment here, the second installment here, the third installment here, the fourth installment here and the fifth installment here.
Looking forward to the next episode. I won’t be commenting for a few days as I’ll be doing some travelling.
Enjoy your travels, Roger. I hope you’ll tell us about it.
Let me try this one more time.
I wrote this very long comment and thanks to WordPress not liking my password AGAIN……. I lost it. Now I will just say, thanks for this post, love it. sigh
James, I am so sorry about WordPress issues. I tried to comment on several blogs from my phone over the past two days, and I had the same issue. It is so, so frustrating.
Love the opening sentences. Entire first paragraph is perfect. I learned so much from those sentences.
Thanks, Cheryl.
This is the kind of story I would pick up and quickly devour from cover to cover! Can’t wait for the next installment!
I hope I don’t disappoint you, Kim. I’m mighty tired right now, with words still left to write for tomorrow.
I love it all, so much. The last line was slick, and mysterious, and perfect!
I really like the last line, too.
“…the upturned line that might change everything.” Perfection.
Thanks, Dear.
I knew a Penelope when I was in elementary school. She was from England. Her father was a doctor or something who got transferred over here. I remember my little, what? 8 year old?, heart being entranced by her. I remember her accent, how she talked differently, dressed differently (a lot of tweed), and smiled at me.
Damn that was a long time ago!
Of course, then there is Penelope Pitstop.
Ah, yes. Thanks for that. Whatever became of the childhood Penelope?
Absolutely no idea. That was like 3rd or 4th grade? Seems like centuries ago.
But, is it really the smile that holds the appeal?
I don’t think Arthur knows.
“I know I saw a crooked smile, and it’s that upturned line that might change everything.” Very nice Andra, very nice indeed.
Thank you, Lori.
Andra, I really picture the characters you create. I can feel the atmosphere and I am enjoying the tension and chemistry that’s building. I love the line, “I ignored him and shined a Thunderbird’s back end.” So, so nice!
That’s one of my favorites, also.
“Rode with the top down and watched the moon slide up over the horizon, scattered moon beams on the river. ” It just sums up what you do when love is new.
New love does put a different shine on things, doesn’t it?