The Girlfriend
by Anon Allsop

I sat in the grass along the north side of the building and watched her walk past; I sucked air through my teeth at her beauty. My eyes followed her walk, swaying deliciously toward the little bench by the pines.

"Hey man... you even listening?" My friend Roger slapped my arm.

I glanced over at him and grinned, "Ever see her around here before?"

His eyebrows raised, "No... actually I haven't." He looked around me at the woman. "Why don't you go on over and talk to her... she looks like your type."

I frowned, "Now what the heck is that supposed to mean."

He smiled, "She's cute... not spectacular... just cute."

I looked again to see if we were talking about the same girl. "You're crazy. She's incredibly beautiful."

“I wondered where I might find you.” She said, as she wandered casually up to where I was standing. Her ever-present wrap looked like a deep red dress, while I was scruffy in denim shorts and a bright green tee shirt.

I smiled and mentally launched another clay pigeon into the air.

“Just having a little fun,” I said as I threw another bolt of force and blasted the clay pigeon to dust.

“Still so very much the male,” Elisabette laughed. “What a waste of energy. Here, let me show you something. How many of these can you put into the air at once?”

I looked over at the beautiful woman sharing my truck’s bench seat. Who was she, and why did I feel so connected with her? The streetlights glow and the flashes of lightning showed a woman who I’d guess was somewhere in her early-to-mid-thirties, with an athletic, slender frame and dark blonde hair. All she wore was her “wrap,” but as I looked at her in the seat, it covered her like a dress of finest silk, elegant and stylish.

Elisabette smiled and looked at me. “I confuse you, don’t I, Emily?”