To say that Lillian was beautiful was like saying that Bill Gates was kind of wealthy. And, speaking of wealth, Lillian had it.

And all I had was the distinction of being the first in my family to attend a university.

When I fell, I fell hard. My eyes followed her along with the gaze of a thousand would be suitors. They lingered over every curve and every rise of her oh-so-treasured body. With a wink she rose the hopes of men like sunken ships exposed to sunlight for the first time in years. With a scowl she crashed them like a satellite plunging from the heavens.

Out of all of them, she chose me…lowly me, to reenact her favorite game. With a curve of her beckoning finger, I was at her attention. For a day, I was the luckiest man in the entire existence of humankind’s eventful stay on the planet. Then, like a fleeting dream, it was over, and tomorrow held a new plaything, a new game for her.

Once more, I stood on the outside looking in, a spectator to the ascendance of Lillian’s next lucky fool.

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