Old Flame           
by Lisabet Sarai

 After twenty-five years, she still aches, remembering graduation eve.  Wind ruffling the reservoir and his raven curls.  Kisses and hands.  What if they had been braver, sooner?

"I'm glad we could meet." His silver-laced hair is wild as ever.

"Mark's away."

Her blush speaks clearly.  His eyes question.  She surrenders.

She opens to him, letting him drive her into fever.  In flames, she dreams of ravishment.

He impales her.  She savors his roughness.  Then their connection fades.  She lies beneath a stranger.

Tears of regret gather.  He jerks his hips. She strokes his hair sadly as her dream evaporates.

Copyright 2002 Lisabet Sarai. All rights reserved.

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