At the first slow stroke, the crescendo seeped through his thoughts like warm hot chocolate velour over a coconut ice-cream. The violin beckoning gent...y as it unwound, rising and tensing. It spiraled upward soothing his hunger with its lovely melody. She saw him first through her kitchen window while quietly setting about making herself a cup of tea. She was a delicate image of a young woman with unassuming long brown hair and soft tiny freckles that sprinkled over her upturned nose. His pale. My toes and nails painted bright red as they had been since school let out for the summer. Cleopatra would have been proud of my eye makeup. I had just finished painting my lips candy apple red, when I heard a man clear his throat in the bedroom door.Startled I turn and saw my uncle Bob standing blocking the door. He was my mother’s older brother and had stopped by to say hello. He had been by the dinner and mother had told him to stop by and check on me on his way out of town. So engulfed. More

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