by Kristine Lockhart

Created on: March 17, 2009

Impulsive Proposal

Tap! Tap! Tap . . . Tap! . . . and . . . Tap tap! Dance shoes lying on a black woolen carpet! Da! Da! Da la! . . . and . . . Da la! The musician metered away his latest number as he tapped his restless fingers softly against the top of his antique writing desk. He gazed at the jar holding an ever growing collection of pencil shavings. The stubby relic in his grasp cries perfection.

Purrelli coiled loosely upon her cushioned seat, twitched an ear, ever listening even in sleep. The ticking clock challenged Herbert to finish his concert piece.

Using only his initials Herbert etched his endorsement on the document that lay before him. The music written by his contemporary artist, Jimmy Nacre, adequately met his required guidelines. The master concerto expressed an attitude carefully designed to thrall the listener's ear.

Herbert set his attention upon the completion of his own concerto in progress. As musical prose gushed foreword he willed his squat stylus to record the words.

More prone to distractions than usual, Herbert unduly investigated the cavity of his freshly pulled tooth. Blood tainted saliva still seeped from the sore. Herbert sighed his disgust to the fore as he wiped his sleeve across his brow.

Purrelli arched her back in a tall stretch before lowering herself gingerly to the cool slate floor in search of her master's affection. Making a nuisance of herself, she skillfully circled Herbert's ankles, ably attracting his attention. This won her a brisk belly rub. Purrelli reacted with violent thrashing movements from paw to jaw, jetting for an attack.

Herbert, smiling and full of love for the kitten, grabbed Purrelli to his chest for an affectionate hug before sitting her down with a few small cat treats, and then resumed his pose, resembling concentration.

Herbert faced a problem so sore, it took all his willpower to keep from hiding in the closet, a recluse. He'd often considered this possibility the past two weeks, since his woe had struck. He acknowledged something about the way it happened that kept him from completely going mentally irregular. He strained trying to remember what it was that Collin had said just before he himself had fled the scene. A possible key, he thought, to this whole mess, if only he could recall.

Nearly two weeks had passed since Herbert had entered his lady-love's living room to find her kissing his best friend, Collin Richards. They pulled apart abruptly when he'd entered the room. Patricia turned a delicate

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>