Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 04-01-2013

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Earl made Yvonne nervous; he was smooth as all get out. Coming back from the dining room, he’d grabbed a rose from the front desk bouquet and tucked it behind her right ear, brushing the side of her face with his hand. He’d winked at her, then pranced off to the TV room as fast as 89 would go. Her hands shook so much with surprise and delight, she’d spilled her chamomile tea (making it look like she’d mussed herself). “Problems, Miss ‘Vonne?” the aide asked, grabbing a towel for the spill. “Hells, yes,” she replied sullenly. “I’m too old for all of this damn lust.”

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