I'm not a professional scribe, but beginning to understand what writer's block might feel like as I'm trying to figure out where to start. Guess I should begin with my personal story, and go from there. I'm in my early fifties, a for-hire professional in the Defense arena living in the DC area. About twenty-five miles west of DC, to be a little more exact. I'm single by choice, and live in a small but well-to-do gated community, and own a single family home. Most residents are like myself, successful working professionals who make at least six figures.
I generally work from home, with the frequent trip for a conference, if not a local meeting in some nearby corporate office. I'm six foot tall, and one hundred ninety pounds, give or take a pound or two depending on my workout routine - which is very dependent on my schedule in any particular week. I'd been involved with athletics since high school, and have always been very competitive. What I lacked in ability, I made up for through sheer motivation; many had better skills, but no one out-hustled me. But time has taken it's toll on the knees so light weights, brisk walks, and the occasional cycling have to suffice.
It was during one of my early-April walks that I discovered my neighbor, Leslie. Of course I didn't know who she was then, but Leslie first appeared few blocks from my house when I'd gotten to the end of a particular street, and turned left to head up what I'd called the backstretch. About three quarters of a block ahead of me was the diminutive figure of a woman in a pink top, khaki shorts and white tennis shoes briskly walking in the same direction. For the most part, all I could see was her shortish-looking blonde hair and backside, but it was a shapely backside and that certainly caught my attention.
She turned left at the end of "our" street, and a few minutes later, following the same route, I turned left as well. To my disappointment, she was nowhere to be seen. I kept on course, looking left and right when I came to another intersection, but she was gone. Oh well, I figured, she must've lived close by and just went inside her house, so on I went. But I continued to wonder throughout the day who the mystery woman was.
Several days later I was out for my morning walk but had gotten a later start than normal. I walked my regular course, with the ITunes playing in my ears, when I came upon an intersection to my left. Just as I was about to cross the street, a gold Camry pulled up to the stop sign immediately to my left. Not wanting to be hit, I stopped so the car could proceed and waved the car past. At that point I looked directly at the driver - a woman with short blonde softly-curled hair and sunglasses, displaying a big smile. With her hand she waved for me to pass, so I smiled and waved back and proceeded on, looking at her the entire time I walked in front of her car.
She continued to smile back, and once I was past she turned and went by me to my right with a honk of the horn, wave, and that big smile. That's when I began to wonder if that could be the same woman I saw from a distance a few days earlier? It seemed to make sense, her car came from the same general area where I'd last seen her, but had to admit her's wasn't a car I'd seen before. At least now I knew what to look for. Maybe.
The weather was slowly getting warmer, and with my house located on a corner lot I had a significant amount of vegetation to maintain, particularly on the side and backyard areas where I chose a little privacy around the deck area. While it wasn't totally secluded from the neighbors, the garden and several trees provided plenty of shade during specific times of the day, and semi-obstructed views of the other homes close by. The following week I decided to get an early start on some of the yard maintenance.
As I was pruning and pulling at weeds I happened to look up and out into the distant surroundings to see how the neighbor's yards were progressing in comparison, and I noticed someone walking up the street and headed my way. It was the small blonde-haired lady wearing the same pink top and khaki shorts I'd seen last week. She appeared to be holding a water bottle as she walked closer, and I pretended to continue my gardening as she came closer and I stole a few quick glances her way. As she arrived at the end of the street, she turned left on the road which ran parallel to my house - had she'd turned right she would've just entered a cul de sac and had to come back by.
So as she began to walk past I looked directly at her just as she turned her head towards me I stopped what I was pretending to do and said, "Good morning."
She smiled softly and replied, "Morning," as she kept up her pace, turned her head back in the direction she was walking, and just as quickly glanced back at me with a smile.
I quickly looked down, while cutting my eyes back up towards her, and pretended to go back to work, moving the rake in my hand back and forth with no specific purpose. She was still smiling as she was now looking back over her shoulder, then turned to look ahead as she seemingly rolled her shoulders back, which pushed her more than ample chest out. Within a minute she had turned again, in the direction I believed she lived, and disappeared from sight.
I tried to go back to my work as my mind started to process everything I'd seen. She was an attractive woman who appeared to be around my age, about five foot four with blue eyes, a smallish and lightly tanned nose, dirty-blonde hair and lighter highlights. She seemed to be in good shape, guessing she was no more than 130 pounds with a proportional figure for her size, maybe a 34C, and an ass any middle-aged woman would be proud of, I think. Her shorts were somewhat loose-fitting, but not baggy, and you could definitely see the outlines of her well-shaped ass. Her top was tight enough to show her curves without looking like it was painted on.
I surmised she was wearing a workout outfit since I'd seen her in the same clothes last week. Her water bottle was a translucent pink color, closely matching the color of her top. From my mental picture, and what little I could draw from her voice, I deduced she had charming feminine qualities and was a woman with class - which is always a turn on for me. I also began putting together a mental puzzle, having seen her at roughly the same times on a Wednesday, Friday, and now Monday morning. So I needed to come up with a plan to see her again the day after tomorrow. Okay, now back to work.
It seemed to get progressively more humid the next two mornings, and while not too hot you could definitively feel the thicknesses in the air. By eight-thirty am I'd sufficiently cleaned up to look presentable in shorts and a golf shirt, grabbed the paper and a glass of juice, and went outside on the deck to see who might come by. The trees provided ample shade from the easterly sun, and if I didn't move too much I wouldn't start to perspire heavily.
As I was reading I'd glance up occasionally to see if "my friend" was in the area. I started to chuckle at myself for the schoolboy antics, but hey, it was all in fun and also entertaining. A little after nine-fifteen I saw her coming my way from down the street. I tried to act nonchalantly as I peered over the top of the paper and she got closer.
She was wearing her usual - to me anyways - outfit, and could see she was perspiring, probably from the humidity, with the area on her top, just above the breasts, darker than the rest of her shirt. As she neared I lowered the paper to my lap and made sure she knew I was looking at her. She seemed to slow as she turned on the new street and said, "Hi."
I replied with a friendly, "Well hello there."
At that point I glanced down and noticed her bottle was nearly empty, so as I pointed towards it I said, "If you need to refill it I've got a spigot over here, or we can get you something colder from inside."
She stopped and turned towards me, raised her bottle and looked at it, then back at me with a smile and said, "Thank you, that's so nice. But I think I'll be fine until I'm back home."
"Sure," I said,"the door's always open," as I nodded towards the back entrance.
She titled her head a little and smiled, then nodding towards the paper asked, "So, what's that you have there?"
"Oh, it's just the Post," I said.
"Uh huh, I'm sure," she replied with a large grin.
