”“I’m used to holding guns.”“Well, that’s a gun too,” she said, placing her hand on my thigh, “just shoots something different.” She...can be funny sometimes.It felt good. It felt right. Nothing had felt right for weeks. Maybe months.So, I reciprocated, putting my right hand on her thigh, while my left arm was still, for the better part of minutes, laid around her waist. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, but I didn’t pull back afterward. I kept my lips, my nose, my face, pressed against. "How sweet of you" she said in a voice that curled my toes and she reached in her handbag and brought out a five dollar bill, "Here, at least let me give you this for your trouble."I politely refused it, but at the last minute I said, "I'll let you buy me a cup of coffee some day."She grinned at me and said, "It's a date."As she drove off the lot my eyes followed her until she was lost to sight.It was almost six weeks before I saw her again. She had run over something on the road and had blown. More

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