Cracks in the PavementMature

How convenient that she was stepping out to get her mail just as he was parking in his drive. Convenience was often on her side. 

"I hear your heating's out," she called to him as she clutched her lone ad for satellite service. 

He stopped grappling with his keys to gawp in her direction. "Oh, yeah, yeah, 'bout a week now!" 

"You must get chilly!" she exclaimed, as any friendly neighbor might. "Would you care to come in to my heated abode and warm up with a cup of tea before venturing into your igloo?" 



She kept the tea less bitter than her liking (not to speak of the conversation) for his palate's sake. Plenty of sugar and milk were liberally mixed into both. She had no ulterior motive in inviting him into her house, no sir, just being neighborly. She worked absolutely no wiles on him, made no remotely suggestive moves, didn't touch his arm, shoulder, knee, didn't even force a blush. All she warmed was his belly with the chaste brew they shared, and she sent him along his way next door with a kindly smile and wave, the only lingering promise being, "Come on over again sometime, y'hear!" 

When the door was closed on her pointless guest, she returned to the table with the tea things suspended with their completion. She took up his cup, still warm from the last pouring. She turned the cheap china about to swirl the dregs. 

"Yes. So I thought," she said to herself, peering at the shape of the leaves. 

She ran her finger along the rim of the cup, where his lips had so recently drunk, and placed it to the tip of her tongue. "Just as I thought," she said again, and smiled.

The End

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