A Short Love Story

He really loved that woman.  She held a fascination for him like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon.  She was deep.  Wild and rugged in a beautiful sort of way.  Her moods changed like the colors of the day, gentle pink in the morning, sharp as crystal by mid day, and flaming by sunset.  Then the vast mystery of her midnight blue pulled things from him that he’d barely known he was capable of.  The question was, if he went in, would he ever find his way out? 

So he stood on the edge of the emotional abyss and congratulated himself on his intelligence.  There was just too much at risk. He began to think of the skinny waitress down at the cafe.  She wasn’t much to look at, but she was, well, sort of loose.  He liked that in a woman.  Being with her was as easy as stepping off a curb.  Trouble was, he never saw the bus coming. 

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