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Creative Writing

Chapter 1

He sat out on his patio, looking out into the stars. He had come so far in his life. There was so much he had done to get to where he was. He’s loved and lost so many on the road to finding himself. “It was worth the struggle,” he thought to himself. It was worth the time he spent alone. It was worth every tear he shed over the loss, gain, and changes he’d endured. Now he was ready for a quiet life. He’d faced his demons, he fought them down. He was the victor of the struggle against the evil inside.

He was different. He knew this. He always had been. Some people understood him, while others didn’t. He once knew a woman who understood him better than anyone, but because of his stubborn pride and wounded heart, he turned her away. She would have loved him for the rest of his life, and though he knows it now, he didn’t want to admit it then.

She was enchanting! Maggie was like something straight from one of the classic films. She was beautiful and charming with grace and class far beyond that of most modern women. In fact, more than once she paid her bills by working on an acting or modeling job. Her brilliant, long chestnut hair was a sharp contrast to her vivid light blue eyes, lively and wild. Her lips were constantly in a perfect pucker, and Oliver remembered kissing them fondly. Maggie had a figure that most women would have to work their whole lives to obtain, though she admitted to having never worked out a day in her life.

She was everything a man could have ever wanted, including him. More than once she had been told that she was the perfect woman. It’s not every day that a man finds a woman with such class and grace who can also enjoy the fine qualities of a good Single Malt Scotch and a fine cigar on Poker night with the boys. She drove a black convertible sports car, loved the older classics, and adored motorcycles. She was an avid target shooter and played football with the boys. She wore jeans most of the time, but she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen when in a dress and heels.

Oliver thought back fondly to the night she drove out to see him. It was late, he had just gotten in from a long day at work and was ready for a little company. When she walked in, he remembered seeing that long black rain coat and the high heeled black boots standing there in the door way. The light from inside lit up her face. There was a devilish smile in her eyes and he could see that she was up to something mischievous.

“Hi!” he reached in and kissed her. “Umm… Maggie? Do you have anything on under that coat?”

“Well,” she smiled. “Yeah…” she slid it off her shoulders ever so slowly, “But not much.” The coat dropped to the floor revealing a lace corset with thigh high stockings attached with small elastic straps at the bottom of the corset. Maggie looked at him closely, the smile on her own shy face broadening into a deep, wonderful, sweet grin.

His friends all seemed to approve of Maggie when they met her, and one even had the audacity to tell him one night that she thought Maggie was ‘the one’ for him. Yet he held back. He wasn’t sure why.

He was a confirmed bachelor, and he liked it that way. He didn’t want to have to report home to someone, or be expected at a certain time. He wanted to be able to come and go as he pleased, just as he had been doing for so many. He couldn’t do that if he were to commit to anyone. He felt that would be disrespecting her in some way, and he cared about her too much to disrespect her like that. What a silly reason to let such an amazing woman go, he thought to himself.

He remembered the day he let her go. It wasn’t that he told her that he wouldn’t see her again, or that he wasn’t going to call. He just... didn’t.

He sat another moment or two in silence. Finally, he turned and looked over at his window. The lamp was on inside, and he could see the phone on the table next to it. Just beyond that was the foot of the bed, where she would often sit and watch the moon rise over the hill at night. Often he would turn and see her sitting there, watching the sky outside, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulders in thick waves. He would think to himself that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She’d always blush when he told her that.

“She’s probably already forgotten about me by now,” he thought quietly. “She was so beautiful. There’s bound to be men knocking down her door trying to take her out.” He hadn’t seen or talked to Maggie in several months now. He missed her. He still thought about her often. He closed his eyes a second and saw the moonlight on her hair and reflecting in her beautiful blue eyes. He did love her. He wasn’t willing to admit to it before, but he had fallen in love with her long ago, back when they first met. His eyes, now moist with fresh tears, flickered open again. He cleared his throat.

His gaze fell back onto the phone by the lamp.

“Maybe it’s not too late.”

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