This is a work of fantasy. It is not about real people, and if it
is, it's not what they would do. (not that you are likely to know them
anyway). If you are under 18, go away, since I don’t like to get in trouble.
If you are turned off by perversion, what are you doing at asstr? In
other words, go away. If none of this applies to you, great! Read on!
Have fun! Let me know
what you like!
Oh, and I work hard on my writing…so guess what? It's mine.
That’s right boys and girls…it's copyrighted…so if you want it? Just
ask- we’ll talk.
PS This was the very first short story I ever wrote; It's been edited and
re-edited since then. You'll understand my motives for posting it once you've
read it, even if it's not exactly erotica.
Dryad
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The Diner
It was in that corner booth she sat when I first saw her.
She was dressed in the height of fashion, why she even had on those fancy
silk stockings and a hat...on a weekday! I was working behind the counter.
It had been warm and muggy, strange this early in the season. Vinnie had
started the fans. I was sweatin’ like a hog, I swear it, and even then
she looked as cool as a tall glass of lemonade they give the fellas after
a day of hayin’! We were all expectin’ it to storm something fierce
the way the heat was buildin’. Well, I had my money to make, so I went
up to her and asked what she wanted. The way she looked up at me sideways,
so high and mighty, well! “a glass of water.” her low, husky voice
said. Water! Hmph! You’d think someone wearing those kind of clothes
could afford to order somethin’ they had to pay for. So I went behind
the counter to get her water. I took a quick peek over her way.
There she was lookin’ out the window at Ed’s Feed and Seed.
Since there was no one else in the diner, I decided that I should
probably try to be friendly, “Hot day, ain’t it?” She shook her
head. I tried again.
“Visiting relatives?”
A low “Not exactly.” came from the booth.
“Anything I could help with?” Sweet Jesus, she had my curiosity
riled. “You’re not from around here.” It was a statement, not
a question. I placed the water glass in front of her.
She kept her face low and said, “Thank you.”
Well, she was an awful tough nut to crack. I grew up here,
but it ain’t exactly sight-seein’ country. She had the look of someone
with a hell of alotta money, that much I’d bet on, but she looked scared.
Well, there ain’t nothin’ to be scared of ‘round here except ole’ man Riley’s
bull.
“Is there a place to stay in town?” Her voice startled me
out of my thoughts.
“Well, yeah, but it depends on how long you plan on stayin’.
There is a boarding house on Willow Street a couple of blocks up. That’d
be your best bet. The motel is only good if you’re just passin’ through.”
Hmph, see what that gets her.
“How would you get to this boarding house?” I gave her the
way, then she stood to leave.
“You jest set yourself back down. The boardin’ house ain’t
going nowhere, and that sky is gonna open up any second. I’ll take
you over there myself.” She sat back down. I wiped down the counter,
shut off the fans, and put the closed sign up in the window.
“What’s your name?”
She turned toward me and said, “Amanda.”. As the first roll
of thunder shook the windows, I could see the entire side of her face
was bruised and ragged. I didn’t say nothin’. It wa’n’t
my place.