Cloudburst Summit

Yesterday was an incredible day. It was a day like no other -- one in which I smiled so much and was so happy that my facial muscles ached. I played hooky ... yep, and with a "boy" (i.e., definitely a man!). I let him sweep me away from the doldrums and intensities of overworking, speeding me along in his vintage sportscar on winding mountain roads -- far, far away from my dusty urban concrete hideaway up to and back from a snowy summit where blue skies reigned and the icy cold air welcomingly braced my entire body. Yes, that man -- ruggedly, yet boyishly and quirkily handsome with his precisely trimmed hipster crewcut and his lanky frame wrapped in jeans and a t-shirt topped with a tan suede coat ... I was scared -- I wanted to touch his hand, accidentally brush against his leg, but I was afraid that, once it happened, the electricity wouldn't let me break away, so I settled more deeply into the car seat, and stared out the window as the engine roared.

I couldn't get enough of his scent, the energies radiating from both of us ... I tried to soak everything in and just prayed that I wouldn't forget a thought, a feeling, a visual sighting. At times, we didn't speak for miles, but my thoughts, while calming, seemed to fast forward ahead, then rewind to the present. There's just something about him that I cannot forget ... and something that draws me into wanting to know more.


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