Life Love: Forgotten OR Romance Novel Material

I forgot how much I love life, and by life, I mean bloggage. [This was originally written on August 8th. I am behind.]

Driving home from work today, I took an alternate route home, in order to avoid PESKY TRAFFIC on STUPID STREETS. In true romance-novel styles, I will recount a lovely happening, where I met my one true love: Old Man in Rusty Car.

T'was a blustery afternoon as Miss Ditz dashed out of workplace. Miss Ditz shielded her lengthy auburn waves as she ran, bosoms heaving [come on, I HAD to say that], hair blowing in the wind, towards her car. The rain was not letting up. Miss Ditz shivered as she fumbled for her keys, digging deep within the heavy purse that made her shoulders dip ever so slightly, causing her shirt strap to slide down from her rain-drizzled flesh and expose a bare shoulder. A heavy wind blew a gust towards Ditz as she slid swiftly into her car. She revved up her engine and casually drove beyond the confinements of the company's parking lot. Ditz ran long, thin fingers along her bare thighs, pursed her full red lips while awaiting the change of the traffic lights. Ditz inhaled deeply and exhaled a deep sigh, as though she'd been waiting her entire life for the signal to change from fire engine red to the greenest of greens.

She drove with the passion and feist of a woman yearning to meet her soul mate, singing every love song she knew. Ditz pulled up to a familiar intersection, and by this point, she was daydreaming heavily. Remembering lost loves, replaying minute-by-minute details. Ditz sighed again; running fingers lightly through the length of her tresses. Ditz closed her eyes and let her hand caress the back of her neck, grazed the nape of her neck and shoulders. Caught up in her seemingly private moment, she opened her eyelids slowly, revealing ivy green eyes framed by long black lashes. As Ditz gracefully turned her head, she gradually realized that she had not been alone in her car, though she thought she had. Heavy eyelids housed the deepest of brown eyes, burning holes in Ditz's windows, and peering through the holes was Ditz's soon-to-be true love: Old Man in Rusty Car.

Old Man gestured frantically, smiling with the teeth of a tiger ready to pounce on its prey. Miss Ditz was confused, seldom did men of that prestige take notice to her unless it was to inform her that her tire was flat, or that she'd parked too close to the corner. Ditz held in a deep breath as her slender index finger pressed slightly to lower her window. She hesitated, gripping the shaft of the shift, and cleared her throat. Ditz could not believe the words escaping out of her full lips, bouncing off her small pink tongue.

"Yes... Is there a problem? What can I do for you?"

And she could barely fathom, much less have expected, the words that would shortly escape from the Old Man's beige lips:

"Je t'aime. Je t'aime!"

Swift as desire, Ditz flashed her full movie-star smile, using the full volume of her lips and teeth, while speeding off into the sunset; Old Man turned the corner, never to be seen again.