The First

After all that planning, he’d finally done it.

She was the kind of woman a lot of men had known. The kind of woman who could teach a boy like him a thing or two. Or so she said when they first met the week before.

She was standing outside the VFW hall, in an open, knee length jacket smoking a cigarette. A Newport he learned. Mentholated

“Keeps the stink off your breath,” she said, handing him one.

Shrugging off her comment, , “You wanna ditch these old geezers and come have some fun with me?” He asked as he lit it with his own Zippo, waiting for her response.

She just laughed. When he didn’t leave she asked him, curiously “How much money you got tucked away in those pockets of yours?” She was meant to dance for all the vets with her silky scarves still dangling from her waist.

“Enough.” He lied, but what did she know?

“Maybe next time kid,” she said, dropping her cigarette crushing it under the toe of her white knee high boots, “I just might be able to teach you a thing or two.”

And she had.

Four days later he had it all figured out. More than that he’d gotten his date with those mocking eyes, minty lips, and scarf swaying hips.

Looking down at her crumpled body a toothy grin flashed across his face. He did it! He dimmed the light in her eyes. The laughter flowed right out of them and it didn’t make a sound.

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