Running out of ideas so reposting
Something I wrote elsewhere a few years ago
She’d been so entranced by the early morning sunrise she hadn’t heard the door open behind her. She stood very still as she sensed the footsteps getting closer.
‘You’re up early’, he said.
‘Mmmm, I woke and couldn’t drop off again, got up and made myself a cup of tea. Saw this wonderful mix of colours out here so left the warmth of the kitchen to come outside for a better look’
‘And what’s on the agenda for today?’ he asked as he turned to go back inside.
She was caught unawares by that one. ‘Maybe a bit of shopping, possibly call in at the Animal Shelter with those old towels, I might even go to the gym. I’ll just play it by ear as the day goes by’
There was no way she was going to tell him exactly what she had planned for her day. It was going to be a mixture of pain and pleasure which she was sure he wouldn’t understand.
She stood there a while longer then suddenly felt the chilly early morning air seeping into her bones
Upermost in her mind was their upcoming trip to Rome. She was so looking forward to feeling the warmth of the European summer sun which meant it was time to get her legs waxed.
‘Now what shall I have for breakfast, she muttered to herself, oh, and what time was that appointment?’
*****
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I am intrigued about that appointment. Leg waxing? Shudder. However years back I had some mild chemotherapy. The hair on my legs and arms was lost – and never grew back. A tiresome chore I no longer have to consider. I am glad I didn’t lose the hair on my head though.
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I admire the determination of female chemo recipients who tend to ‘wear’ their baldness with pride.
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It’s a beautiful sky.
A trip to Rome might be nice
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Especially after the hard winter the southern states have had/are having
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lovely train of thought prose. I can imagine it so well
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I enjoyed writing that piece. There were prompts but it could have been written about a similar conversation The Golfer and I had a long time ago.
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Beautiful sunrise. This is a sweet little piece of writing. Now – about that trip to Rome . . .
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