- Love Letters in Her Handby Tom Horonzy
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A Memory stirred
Love Letters in Her Hand by Tom Horonzy
Young at Heart contest entry

As the morning light became more bright, my loved one came into sight where wavelets lapped at her feet, size six and a half. She was sitting in one of those low-slung beach chairs. Her long, lustrous, auburn hair nearly touched the ground. She was seemingly staring seaward. 

There, a ship slowly slipped Southward trawling for shrimp. Its thrumming engine barely heard over the receding tide, sounded like a drummer drumming a snare swished by a brush drumstick that added to a serene setting interrupted by my approaching footfall.   

Somewhat startled, she turned, then smiled when she saw it was her beloved me. I could tell she was even more pleased than I was as she giggled with glee. Speaking softly with puckered pink lips, she longingly whispered, "Give me a kiss."  I did, then noticed her holding letters in her hand. What have you there?

"Pleasant memories previously provided by a passionate provocateur."

Someone I know?

"You should, but they are from long ago; therefore, probably not. Let me give you some hints. He was tall, dark, and handsome."

Go on.

"He had oceanic blue eyes that reflected the stars when we kissed at night with soft, plump, delicious lips."
Where and when did this take place?

"Right here. Forty-plus years ago"

And you still have his letters? Why?

"He was a poetic type of fellow, writing new verse every day, through a courtship lasting two and a half years. He was always attentive to my needs and  very patient, seeing how he agreed not to consummate relations until I graduated and wedded."

Really? That must have been a special kind of guy. But wait. You were previously married?

"I still am."

So you're a polygamist? 

"Oh my, no. Why would you think that? The fellow that wrote these letters, and it seems you can't figure out, was and remains the man of my dreams, silly, is and shall always be - you."


Author Notes
This began as I listened to Pat Boone singing Love Letters in the Sand, and before I knew it, I began reminiscing.
The picture is my own and is the missus, and I am still enjoying life to its fullness. We were in Hawaii.
A real-life experience mixed with a dose of fiction. My wife is blond, not auburn.


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