By James ( Jim ) Freeze
Kate stood close to him at the boardwalk rail, so close that Joe could feel the touch of her blonde curls as the wind blew them softly against his cheek. Below them an orange peel floated by in the wake. Their eyes followed it as it bobbed and sank in the white foam. Then Kate turned suddenly with her eyes ablaze and her lips apart, pouting prettily and glancing over her shoulder, “Please—be nice to me!” She pleaded. Speaking her name softly, Joe persisted, “It was just an orange, next time be more clear if you want me to share.”
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