By eighth grade, Jamie, safely tucked into plaid shirts and dark jeans, already looked like a frumpy suburbamom. Her body appeared to have slid directly from pre-pubescence into middle-aged dump, completely bypassing any charms of mid-development. The Dorothy Hamill haircut, extraordinarily plain face, and obsession with horses didn’t help her cause, either.
Her concession to girlishness was her sneeze, a cartoonish little apology that never failed to make the more jaded of us 12-year-olds roll our eyes. The giggle that followed in its wake was pure overkill. Still, many found it delightful.
I shudder to imagine her evolution into orgasm.
Ahhh…that was a really, really great story, Jodes. I LOVED it. I wish it wouldn’t end. Can we curl up in a blanket and cuddle in a rocking chair together and you tell me another story while tenderly stroking my whispy hair…please?
This could and should be published, you know.
Thanks for a great story.
I agree with jeffrey and bp. It’s a wonderful short story.