(An excerpt from a short story I've been working on.)


She thought for a moment how silly she must have appeared, holding the fabric of the dress up to her face, but she couldn�t help but be enraptured by it. Standing there, resting her cheek on the threads and patterns of green and brown and white, she closed her eyes and envisioned that day�the day that only lived in her mind but devised the soul purpose of the garment....

She sat in her car. The radio created a low murmur in the background, being overpowered by the continuous beating of the rain hitting the roof. Raising her head, she could make out the door to his motel room. A dim light cast a yellow hue over it creating a spotlight of sorts, which seemed to separate it from everything else.

As she opened the car door, a downpour of water rushed over her and the beating turned into a comforting sibilance that surrounded her. She closed the door and walked toward the stairs being careful not to slip. With each step, her sandals created a metallic �ping� noise that was lightly mimicked by the droplets ricocheting off the staircase. Concentrating on the sound, she climbed slowly and let the shower drench her body, feeling as though she was being properly cleansed for what would become the next stage of her life.

After reaching the top, she walked over to his door and stood under the beam of light. She waited for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Then, she knocked.

The door opened, and the light from inside met that which was projected on her face. There he was.

"My beautiful," she thought.

She walked in and turned to him as he closed the door. He approached her slowly, taking in her appearance. Her hair was darker, flattened, and grouped bits sent droplets down her neck and onto her shoulders. She almost looked sweaty with the wetness coating her skin, and it caused her shoulders to glow in the light.

He noticed the dress. It was drenched and the thin fabric clung to the surface of her body, allowing him to make out the curves of her breasts, waist, hips, thighs.... At that moment he knew that this time, she wouldn�t be running out the door to somewhere she had to be. He knew she was there for him and would stay. He knew she was his.

He hugged her, his hands touching her back that almost seemed sticky with moisture. He noticed a muggy, sweet smell coming off of her hair and felt his chest becoming damp as the wetness seeped through his shirt. In the distance, he could hear the light noise of droplets from her dress landing on the floor.

�I love you, beautiful,� she whispered.

My favorite part of the story, at least thus far....!!

One of the best-written pieces I've ever read.

Thank you, Sweetie!!

BRAVO!!

Thank you very much.