Ficlets

Forest

He was a dancing, singing musician; I was a simple, country lumberjack. We met at a bar called the “Hard Riders.” You can guess what that was about. Heh. Well, he was sittin’ on the piano, half-naked, singing the night away. I stood there and watched with awe (and of course popped a boner). We caught each other’s eyes and well, he gave me a private encore that night. From then on, we moved in together in the small town. Of course, some of the locals didn’t like that too much but we didn’t care. We loved it there. Our special place was up on that cliff on the mountain, where you can get a vista view of the entire valley down below. The sunset and sunrise was no less than…well I don’t even know the words to describe it. All I could say is that the sun sets everything ablaze with its light. The fire dances all around us, then gives way to a new day or a night with billions of lonely, twinkling stars in the deep night sky.

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