A date for dinner
Stood up by a date for dinner,
I was both hungry and in a bad mood.
The path home was by urban sidewalks,
that snaked through streets absent of life,
or so I believed.
The whistle came first,
followed by a smack of lips,
from the shadows behind.
I considered the contents of my purse,
the mace and my butcher knife.
Along the lighted path I continued,
a peek over my shoulder revealed my follower,
a glimpse at his hands showed the dozen roses that he held,
my date for dinner had caught up with me.
I allowed him time to give an apology,
before I corrected him,
he had not been late for our dinner date,
he had been late for my date for dinner.
They say humans tastes like chicken,
I never very much cared for chicken.
My name is Crystal and I am a writer, poet, and crafter.
From the time I could pick up a writing instrument I was
writing...technically...since only my childhood mind could understand
what it was that I was putting to paper. I am sure that those early
stories amused me and that they were filled with the things of fairy
Today, I have a mind cluttered with characters and their
stories that are eager to be written about. I hope you enjoy reading my
Pieces Inspired by this Image
'One Winter Day'