He remembered those humid summer evenings under the dim back porch lights. He can vividly recall the angle which the light’s reflection bounced off the above ground pool, and the way her silhouette danced with both the reflection and the moonlight. Her smile was screaming into his soul for him to stand up, grab her, and quit fucking around with their destiny. All she wanted was a simple phrase; or even, if he was bold enough, a kiss. But to both of their dismays he was too shy, and she was too desirable for this young man.
The beach was fun, too. Christy, I believe her name was. She brought back that feeling I thought I’d never find again. We just lay there in the sand, listening to the ocean sing a perfectly timed chorus to our stories. We should’ve kissed. I should’ve kissed her. I was stupid though, and she became a coke head, so I guess that’s just one more bad hand dealt by fate.
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