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Cars around me honked. Wheels squealed. Drivers cursed -- I think they did anyway. It's hard to tell since my windows are raised. The turn completed, and my car firmly positioned in traffic, I headed for home. The safety of home. The safety of my sane, quiet, loving husband. NO! I had to do this! I had to see what will happen if I were to encounter this man again. My marriage is solid, loving and not in danger of disharmony. I can risk this one little endeavour without fear of severe retribution. A sharp jerk of the steering wheel forcing the car into a U-turn and again, I was headed back to the KMart. The KMart where it all began -- and ended in a matter of hours. For the most part, I couldn't even remember all the details, not even how the illicit meeting ended. I only remembered that he made mention that this was not to be our last encounter.I tried to make it just that -- for two weeks. Now, however, a strange yearning drove me on. One that I feared, yet had to explore. I had to. As Bentley walked through the door a small bell tinkled above his head. He shuddered at the sound; it brought back memories of stepping on squeaky floorboards when returning too late from some party or other when he'd been a teen. He hadn't wanted to attract any attention to himself. Fortunately the shopkeeper was busy at the counter with a Miss Marple look-alike.Bentley didn't really recognise anything in the shop. There were things that looked like incense sticks, brightly coloured balls that could have been candles or bath soap, various vials of different liquids and crystals, lots and lots of crystals. Worthless New Age crap basically. He pretended to browse while surreptitiously checking out the girl behind the counter.Yeah, she was hot, but also with a wacky streak. Her pale face had the classic beauty of a porcelain doll, but enough warmth shone from her cheeks to give her an approachable air. Her black hair fell back across her shoulders in waves of glossy curls. The wackiness.
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