This is part of a novel I've pecked at for years.


The moment I saw her I felt 'it'. She wore dark hair and white skin.
Her strong features and soft smile revealed confidence and humility at
the same time. Jade eyes rested upon an almond face. Precious
pink-glazed lips spread widely across with her face with each
greeting.



After three weeks of walking past her espresso cart I summoned the
fortitude to conquer Everest; I asked for her name.



Another week passed before I braved a question for Anete's phone
number. That evening she and I shared a two-hour phone call.



Three days later, I met Anete for our first date - Atlantic City, New Jersey.



That night I saw her first - she wore a white summer dress - standing
on a boardwalk with vintage globe style bulbs strung high, crossing
overhead. Nearby sounds of kids and families and ocean echoed across
the dunes and buildings around us. She stood, reaching towards me with
her arms outstretched - she asked me to dance.



"There's no music" I said as I took her hands in mine, pulling us
together. She did not care. Her right arm was up around my neck and
left rested gently upon my chest as she moved. I wondered what stirred
her body as she floated before me; a marionette pulled by the strings
of an unseen, giant force.



We walked along the sand, past the noise and the ruckus. The violent
and soothing waves lapped enthusiastically against the sand at our
feet. My arm held her close, around her neck and across her shoulders.
She walked close, but relaxed with arms around my waist.



Sometimes she stumbled, using it as an excuse to fall into me a little
closer. At one point Anete dropped to the ground. I stopped to help
her up. As she rose, she ambushed me with a handful of sand to my
face.



It was ON! Scoops of sand and bits of shell fly as we engaged in the
world's toughest sand-fight. Soaking wet already, we rinsed away the
wet sand in the ocean waters before Anete pulled me onward and upward
to the boardwalk.



I followed and she never looked back to ensure I was there. I could
FEEL her confidence from 20 feet away. Barefoot with her sandals in
her hand Anete glided across the sand and planks as if a spirit.
Approaching a hot dog vender she spoke softly "Two, please".



I secured a bench facing the Ferris wheel and Anete brought back two,
with mustard. I'm ate because I needed to eat from a biological
standpoint because watching her; walking beside her; listening to her
satisfied any OTHER demands of my body. She was a power cord plugged
into whatever mechanism fuels my heart. Not two bites in, she had a
little mustard on her cheek."You have a little...let me" I say,
dabbing MORE mustard on her opposite cheek.



We made small talk - I didn't really follow the conversation because
she talked with a dab of mustard-dimples on each cheek. I struggled to
keep from laughing. As she stood I caught her gently by her hand
before she could walk. When I removed one of the yellow blemishes on
her otherwise flawless face thus betraying my prank her eyes grew
huge.



"YOU did NOT!" I still can see the rage, embarrassment, and smile in
her eyes. I left the second dimple for later.



Hand-in-hand we continued our walk as the evening turned into night.


"I don't want you to leave." Anete confessed, as we found ourselves
back near where we began.

Standing in the on the boardwalk, in a sea of revelers and tourists -
she looked up at me and our faces moved closer. I caressed her face,
holding her preciously in front of me. Softly I moved my thumb across
her cheek removing the last dab of mustard from her face.



We inched closer still.



Seemingly, thunder and lightning exploded around us yet the night sky
was peaceful and the calm ocean licked the shore and the pillars.
Certainly, a storm approached. Our lips touched as the space between us evaporated and the lines
between our existence blurred into obscurity.