A stranger

Carole Free

There was a time, years ago, when she opened her door to a stranger. Blue eyes on fire, hitting her like a force from head to toe. Her blood turned to 7-up in her veins. She was unable to eat for several days, unable to think for several years. He was a Magic Man. He flamed through her life like a comet. She felt alive, transcended, dancing with him in the supermarket, in the surf, in the clouds, in her mind. She always remembered the first night she opened her door to that stranger, during years she lay alone in their bed. Listening for the sound of him coming home. Waiting with her stomach in a knot. Hoping he'd bring the Magic back. Knowing, little by little, he wouldn't...he couldn't. He finally moved on, leaving her feeling like a used paper cup, leaking magic. She remembered that first night, opening her door to a stranger. Blue eyes on fire. She remembered that last night. Flat blue eyes, as she closed the door on a stranger.