Heavenly Scent of Strawberry



by Christine C Terranova

Even under the artificial light of the bookstore her angelic glow radiated.  I had to force myself not to stare at her as she repeatedly pulled books down from the shelf, carefully ruffled through them with her long, delicate fingers, and then returned them to their initial location.

I pretended to be interested in a book so I could remain close to her without seeming suspicious.  A part of me hoped she would notice me and perhaps we could start up a conversation, but another part of me hoped she would leave the bookstore soon, so I could regain my bearings and leave as well.  Unfortunately, she noticed me.

“Turner, is that you?” she asked.  I removed my nose from the book I was holding and altered my countenance.  I wanted it to say, “I haven’t been stealing glances of you for the last seven minutes.”

“Hey, Anabelle, how are you doing?”  She walked up to me and for the first time I noticed that we were the same height.  Five feet and four inches is a fine height for a woman, but for a man, it’s about six inches too short.  And with that knowledge, my insecurities grew, making me even more nervous than I was before she began talking to me.

“I’m fine,” she answered.  She brushed her hair away from her face like she always did in class, and the scent of strawberries filled my nostrils.  I love strawberries.  They’re so soft, delicious and juicy.  It was hard to keep from salivating at the smell.  “And how are you?” she inquired.

I told her that I was doing okay, but I actually felt uncomfortable.  Standing so close to the love of my life was pleasurable but also overwhelming.  If she had any idea of how I felt about her, Anabelle would perhaps never speak to me again.  I didn’t want that to happen, so I tried to act as nonchalant as possible when around her.  It seldom worked.  Being near her wasn’t the easiest thing, especially with the scent of strawberry clouding my judgment.

“I’m like a moth to the flame when it comes to books,” she stated as if defending her reason for being in the bookstore.  “But I have to admit, this is my first time here.  Usually I buy books from Edges.”  The curve of her mouth extended into a sly yet playful smile.  “I should’ve been coming here all along I guess.”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)