Grass shimmers like emeralds. Mums stand tall, filled with colors. Roof tops are white. A gray smoke lifts from chimneys. No pope elected yet.
A young boy delivers the morning papers. Front page news; a chicken dinner at the Elk’s lodge Friday night. A young couple died in a car wreck out on 30. Going too fast. Coupons for the local Kroger store. Pork chops $2.99 a pound. Spaghetti squash $1.99 each.
He walks through the frost. His boots are soaked. One by one he tosses the rolled up papers on porches. Senior citizens wave as they close the doors. A dog barks.
And in the window on Chestnut Street he sees a silhouette in the window of a woman bathing. The boy slowly walks by.
She’s a divorced young lady in the neighborhood. A blonde who keeps to her self. She always tips good at Christmas time. And those sweaters she wears.
Instead of throwing the paper he places it on her porch. Takes another look at the outlined body and breathes exhaust from his mouth. He walks backwards.
She is someone he will never forget. His first crush.