She was my peppermint girl—constantly chewing gum, even during sex. Soon, I’d bouquet the bedroom with spearmint fresh from my garden. Every day I’d offer her mint julep.
One day she tired of me. Opined in an empty minty voice she had to go and wouldn’t be coming back. Our sex wasn’t in mint condition anymore.
I stared in the mirror—wintergreen shaving cream lathered on my face—watched her slam the door. For a moment, a scrub pine knurled up in my chest, uprooted my heart. But in her wake, I smelled fresh hope. And the idea of lavender.
I thoroughly enjoyed this. Very original! Nice work, John!
I love the way this guy handles rejection! He just shrugs it off and goes looking for someone more compatible. Really liked this one.
The most flavoursome tale of our times.
This is a very nice muse mystery. A hint of devotion, a hint of vampirism, a hint of ungodly alchemy.
What a clever peice! Well done.