Tuesday, April 7

The Blonde Dame

A melodramatic re-telling of an un-melodramatic affair.
It was your typical warm, windy day on the Western Kansas plains. I myself was westbound on a two-lane road. An appointment. I was headed to an appointment, at least this is what I recall. Like I mentioned before, it was a windy day.
I was nearing the appointment's rendezvous locale, when she appeared on the horizon. The dame was along the left side of the road. She was currently unoccupied so I decided to roll the dice and take my chances. I got out of the vehicle and approached her. The dame's blonde hair was like a magnet that drew me closer, closer, closer. I couldn't believe believe her hair. It seemed to go on forever. I stood in amazement. The wind picked up and ruffled her locks a bit which startled me, but I remained planted in wonder.
I don't recall much that happened after that. I do remember calling out to this random Rapunzel, but my frail voice getting lost amidst the breeze and her long strands. I found myself driving away, still staring at her in my rear view mirror. Grateful that I stopped, but ungrateful for how I exposed my heart to no avail, like a red balloon drifting off in the wind above the trees and towards the sun. The dame stole my heart and my soul. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't think about that day from time to time. That woman. Her hair. Her gorgeous blonde hair that went on for miles.

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