Wind at the Beach

She knocked on my door and I opened it. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied. “Come in.”

I liked her, but never dared show it. I didn’t want to appear coming on too strong. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.


I wish I could treat her like the wind at the beach: something to enjoy while it lasts, but of which I know has no consequence.

I just wish I could.

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