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Abstract

hree day, beyond steamy, now boiling tryst. Lincoln was 21. When asked, I inflated my age as teens are wont to do and told him I was 16, going on 17.We talked for hours as I soaked up his sheer magnificence. The scene shifted to a sweet hotel room with lace curtains fluttering in the ocean breeze.Lincoln heard I was a virgin and not inclined to ‘go all the way’. No problem, he told me. We’ll just have a little fun. We certainly did. On the bed, in the shower, embraced by warm beach sand at night. I learned more about human bodies through his gentle, adept tutoring than any anatomy book could ever reveal.<figure id="fb24"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*8R6gDPkdXKa8LdCxwq1KqQ.jpeg"><figcaption><a href="http://Gioia M./unsplash">Gioia M./unsplash</a></figcaption></figure>#2 — I’m sitting at a cafe in the central train station in Rome. I have a two hour gap to fill. I order a cappuccino and take out my book. Right away I feel a stare. I look up and see two young men around my age looking right at me. They wave, I wave. They immediately stand up and walk over.“Do you mind if we join you? How about another coffee? We have a wait too.”Turns out they were journalists from a top newspaper in Rome, setting out on a new assignment. They showed me their credentials and passports, as I did mine. One of the duo was triggering my on button and I could see he felt the same.Our conversation became animated with laughter and shared stories, leading to an invitation from green eyed dreamboat. “Come back to Rome and stay with me for awhile. I have a guest bedroom. I’d love to show you around the city.” His friend wildly supported the idea, assuring me his buddy was normally shy and not a playboy.We lost track of time until I heard the announcement of my train pulling into the station. Addresses and phone numbers were exchanged. This captivating pair escorted me directly to a seat by the window.They exited the train and stood outside. Green eyes dashed off at a run, yelling he would return very soon, which was the case. A long s

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temmed red rose in one hand, a box of gourmet chocolates in the other.Both were passed through the open window, along with a confessional proposal from green eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you. Come back. We’ll marry and live happily together.”The train began pulling out of the station. They jogged alongside for a few minutes, blowing kisses as the train gained speed. My compartment held two other women, both approving the exuberant display of passion.The elegantly dressed woman turned and said, “I’ll take him if you don’t want him. Why are you leaving?”I explained how we had met in the last two hours. How romantic and lovely they responded. I opened the chocolates and shared the treats.<figure id="6d0c"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*Jst2Q-NcxMUfM_jvhXh8tg.jpeg"><figcaption>Self at 19, the summer of HAIR/personal photo</figcaption></figure>#3 — It’s a bright Spring day in 1970. A friend and I are throwing frisbees and belting out Joni Mitchell songs at a popular park in Seattle. A man walks by on the path, then stops and sits on a bench close to us. He’s listening and watching us fly through the air with impressive leaps.We pay him no mind and continue singing through our list of Joni faves. We pause for a swig of water and he makes an approach.“You two have great singing voices and wild, gorgeous hair. Did you know the musical “HAIR” has come to town? Auditions will be taking place shortly. I’m a talent scout for the production. Taking a break here at the lake when you both stopped me in my tracks. What about auditioning for the show? Here’s my card in case you don’t believe me.”We took his card. Talked with him some more and decided he wasn’t sleazy. We were fans of the musical and pleased a Scout from NYC had encouraged us to try out. We went to the auditions. Did one or both of us make the final cut?Well there it is. Two truths and a lie. Let me know which one you think is the lie. I’ll get back in a few days. Signing off — Detectives R Us. For hire. No fee.</article></body>

Three Suspect Tales From A Highly Curious Woman’s Past

My response to two truths and a lie writing challenge

Nope. Wasn’t going to do it. Write a hot and steamy trio of tales. Nor ones filled with romance and love. Private zone territory. Firm borders for good reasons.

Until I was double challenged by two of my favorite writers, James Knight and pockett dessert. Then pockett had the nerve to ask how my Coyote muse was doing with the prompt. I know a dare when I get one girlfriend.

There’s two truths and a lie here. Breathe some life into your inner detective and see if you can smell out the fishy one.

WTH, who’s writing this piece Coyote? Get outta here!

Okay, I’m back and here we go:

#1 — It’s 1965 and those infamous summers of love are beginning to rock n roll my world. I’m 14 and working on my tan on a stunning Oregon coast beach. Fantasizing about what I would do with Paul McCartney if he would only have mercy and show up.

My parents left our 19 year old sister in charge of her five younger siblings at the campground site and split. Five days of the Shakespeare Festival were theirs at last. What were they thinking? I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

I looked up from my musings and spotted a walking miracle making his way across the sand. This apparition was more than Paul! It was everything my now space driven hormones could’ve possibly hoped for. A tall, devilishly handsome dude with an award winning smile aimed at…..could it be me? Yes!

We locked eyes until his shadow blocked the sun with his well made form.

“Is the seat beside you taken?”

“No, I’ve been saving it for you,” I replied, smoothing the sand for his graceful descent.

So began our three day, beyond steamy, now boiling tryst. Lincoln was 21. When asked, I inflated my age as teens are wont to do and told him I was 16, going on 17.

We talked for hours as I soaked up his sheer magnificence. The scene shifted to a sweet hotel room with lace curtains fluttering in the ocean breeze.

Lincoln heard I was a virgin and not inclined to ‘go all the way’. No problem, he told me. We’ll just have a little fun. We certainly did. On the bed, in the shower, embraced by warm beach sand at night. I learned more about human bodies through his gentle, adept tutoring than any anatomy book could ever reveal.

#2 — I’m sitting at a cafe in the central train station in Rome. I have a two hour gap to fill. I order a cappuccino and take out my book. Right away I feel a stare. I look up and see two young men around my age looking right at me. They wave, I wave. They immediately stand up and walk over.

“Do you mind if we join you? How about another coffee? We have a wait too.”

Turns out they were journalists from a top newspaper in Rome, setting out on a new assignment. They showed me their credentials and passports, as I did mine. One of the duo was triggering my on button and I could see he felt the same.

Our conversation became animated with laughter and shared stories, leading to an invitation from green eyed dreamboat. “Come back to Rome and stay with me for awhile. I have a guest bedroom. I’d love to show you around the city.” His friend wildly supported the idea, assuring me his buddy was normally shy and not a playboy.

We lost track of time until I heard the announcement of my train pulling into the station. Addresses and phone numbers were exchanged. This captivating pair escorted me directly to a seat by the window.

They exited the train and stood outside. Green eyes dashed off at a run, yelling he would return very soon, which was the case. A long stemmed red rose in one hand, a box of gourmet chocolates in the other.

Both were passed through the open window, along with a confessional proposal from green eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you. Come back. We’ll marry and live happily together.”

The train began pulling out of the station. They jogged alongside for a few minutes, blowing kisses as the train gained speed. My compartment held two other women, both approving the exuberant display of passion.

The elegantly dressed woman turned and said, “I’ll take him if you don’t want him. Why are you leaving?”

I explained how we had met in the last two hours. How romantic and lovely they responded. I opened the chocolates and shared the treats.

Self at 19, the summer of HAIR/personal photo

#3 — It’s a bright Spring day in 1970. A friend and I are throwing frisbees and belting out Joni Mitchell songs at a popular park in Seattle. A man walks by on the path, then stops and sits on a bench close to us. He’s listening and watching us fly through the air with impressive leaps.

We pay him no mind and continue singing through our list of Joni faves. We pause for a swig of water and he makes an approach.

“You two have great singing voices and wild, gorgeous hair. Did you know the musical “HAIR” has come to town? Auditions will be taking place shortly. I’m a talent scout for the production. Taking a break here at the lake when you both stopped me in my tracks. What about auditioning for the show? Here’s my card in case you don’t believe me.”

We took his card. Talked with him some more and decided he wasn’t sleazy. We were fans of the musical and pleased a Scout from NYC had encouraged us to try out. We went to the auditions. Did one or both of us make the final cut?

Well there it is. Two truths and a lie. Let me know which one you think is the lie. I’ll get back in a few days. Signing off — Detectives R Us. For hire. No fee.