There’s nothing better than new love, except maybe breakfast for dinner. I was enjoying both. The incandescently lovely woman across the table, so adorably trying to decide between bacon or sausage (while the waitress bounced from one foot to another) was Annie; a five-foot nothing, blonde headed, blue eyed, smart as a whip, fireball who had embezzled the whole of my heart…a crime I enthusiastically applauded.
I love the sound of Annie’s voice, her infectious laugh, and how when she’s thinking, she bites her soft lower lip with a line of perfect white teeth.
Over dinner/breakfast we talked nonstop; about her entering law school next month, about me starting my new job downtown and, oh yes, how tonight she will definitely bake that pie she’s been promising —apple.
I threw thirty bucks on the table and we scooted out into the crisp Colorado cold. Annie linked my arm tightly and made the “brrrr” sound as we did the walk-snuggle thing heading to the bus stop. I said something funny; I can’t remember exactly, but I remember saying, “…sounds a little like Bob Dylan”. She shot me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket and laughed, “God, I hope not!”
I heard a baritone rumble. Then felt nothing. There was a tiny light; like a flashbulb sparkle. Utter silence. Then just black. I felt nothing at all. I knew I was gone. I don’t know what happened to Annie.
I never saw the truck. I hope she did.