Write or Die Number 2!

He pulled up a chair next to her table in the tiny diner.

She frowned at how forward he was.

"Name's Matt. Care to let me try that pie?"

She resisted the urge to slap him, the color rising in her cheeks.

"It's cold. You wouldn't like it."

He didn't miss the double entendre she threw at him. He sniggered and asked her name. "Astrid, eh? That one's new. Parents hippies?"

"They're not from around here, if that's what you're driving at," she scolded. Unconciously, she twirled the ends of her hair, the late-afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window, giving it a soft, golden-straw glow.

Realizing that she might be a bit nervous, he changed his tactic. "Might I buy you a cup of coffee?"

She raised her eyes to his, seeing now the the deep coal of his irises, darker even than his mop of wavy dark hair.

She wasn't ready to buy this new approach. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"Here, this is a long shot, but, my name is Matthew. I'm 27 years old. I've got a degree in Physics. I play Dungeons and Dragons on the weekends. I live alone. Normally, I'm not a such a pig, but you didn't look like the type who would want a sissy guy. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I don't want to walk out that door over there and regret not at least trying to put myself out there for you. Something...about you. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm just too lonely," he paused, standing, and sliding his chair back into it's rightful position at the bar. "Pardon me. I hope I see you around."

Astrid stared cooly back at him, a thousand words on the tip of her tongue.

Deflated, Matthew tipped his hat to the waitress, and left, not bothering to look back, as Astrid followed him silently with her eyes.

She dropped a five on the table, gathered her bag, bulky as it was full of books and papers, and quickly headed for the door, but she was too late. Taillights blinked a sad goodbye as Matthew gunned it, trying desperately to evade the embarrassment he had just cost himself.

"What a terrible goodbye," Astrid whispered to herself, slowly walking to her car and tossing the weighted bag in the passenger seat.

First Write or Die!

The dew had just begun to settle on the soft petals of the lilacs as Astrid floated back down to Earth.  This journey had not been as difficult as others.  Each return home left her feeling refreshed, renewed.
She made her way cautiously back to the path.  TO be spotted now had the potential to destroy all that she had worked so hard to attain.
The fates were never kind in these situations.  They do not bend; only break. 
Astrid was strongly aware of how little time she had left to right the impending wrong.  It would not be a lie to tell herself that the fate of the world rested in her hands.  Certainly, she was the Savior.
She made it back to her car just as the sky began to take on the slightest gray tinge - those fleeting moments before the sun would wash the heavens in pink and orange, heralding a new day.

Miles away, Matthew stirred in his sleep, his arm aware of the chill on the side of the bed where she should be.  He sat up, looked at the clock, and sighed.  Plopping back down on his pillow, he plotted his next attempt to get her to stay.  This time, it had been strawberries, champagne, and a pile of first edition comics (these are lovely - wash your hands!, she had demanded).  He fell asleep with her nestled against his chest, but some time in the night, she disappeared, just as she always did.