A wisp of her
hair was touched by the breeze gently sending it across her aging face. Her
slender hand pushed it back in place, her gaze never faltering as the sunset in
the distant sky. “How many of these have we seen," she asked her man
sitting next to her on the old wooden steps.
He answered by shrugging his shoulders never taking his gaze off her. “Now why
in Sam hill are you looking at me?” she asked him wrapping her arm around his
resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, he said, When the sun sets it gives
off a golden glow that seems to shoot sparkles out of your eyes and I never do
get tired of seeing that. Sometimes the glow is a beautiful red kind of like
your lips when you paint your face so pretty to go dancing. And when the sun is
all but gone you have this little pout like a kid taking the last lick of an
ice cream cone. You know I can see a million sunsets, but I hope I see a
million and one sitting next to you.”www.michaeloconnorwriter.com
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