by Teresa Tumminello Brader
As he sits in his office, Bill’s daytime fantasies about Michelle don’t go beyond taking hold of her hand or brushing a stray lock of hair off her face. He has an urge to buy her things and take her places; he would like to see her reactions. What he would give her and where he would bring her are mostly formless impossibilities, though he does picture the two of them sitting at a wrought-iron table on the balcony of Ernst Café, an oasis amidst the jabbering after-work crowd. Breezes float down the pedestrian-only street as Bill and Michelle sip Southern Kisses. The sweetness of the drink fills Bill’s mouth. But when he pulls out of his hopeless reverie, only a bitterness on his lips remains.
6S - C3
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