by Stephen Carney

Created on: March 03, 2009

The sun winks its welcome overtop the hedge glinting its multiple rays through gems of liquid still clinging to the cool, crisp leaves, freshly trimmed. The weather is cool this time of year. It's
as if winter is edging its way toward the batter's box plotting its intrusive move to slip past autumn before it has had its turn. There is a sodden clatter of muted applause as each leaf repeatedly bumps into its neighbor. A gentle shower of misty moisture falls to the attentive blades of grass reaching toward an invisible host. The culprit enhances its intensity and stretches the leaves contorting them in some kind of drunken samba. A calming whisper echoes into the empty sky as a roar of applause flatters a microscopic host. The breeze sweeps through the network of branches, twigs, and leaves through the hedge, imposing its path upon all, even stirring a hibernating squirrel from its cozy nest. The reddish orange glow of the sun widens the veins of Mr. Latemire and makes him drunk with the added blood flowing to his hung over brain. It is as if he is exercising while sleeping. Therefore, his body urges him to rise from his slumber in order to prevent injury on his well-used lawn chair already conforming to his hulking frame, sagging its support of his one-too-many steak and shake body. A low rumbling groans its discomfort as last night's dinner struggles to evaporate and disperse into his spoiled arteries, creating new homes of wax on their walls. He stirs, turns over on his side, and expels a lawnmowers call from his nasal cavity. The sun slowly climbs through the trees, like a slithering snake, and inches its way across Mr. Latemire's reddened face, beading with sweat, his mouth hanging open like some cave housing a wrestling match between two mother bears, protecting their young.

Her lips are quite soft, succulent, and tasty. She looks at him as if he were Don Juan, melting in his arms, completely at his mercy. He clicks two times and the horse gallops forward, her in his arms, leaning back against his chest, as they venture toward his cabin silhouetting in the path of the setting sun. The horse whinnies as it slows and stops at the threshing floor. He dismounts and reaches up toward his one true love, her lovely face shining in the orange glow. She smiles and lightly giggles as she slips down into his arms. He leans down to kiss her once more and her giggle turns into chatter; a clicking. She pecks her nose all over his face and screeches contorting her face

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