Thursday, September 3, 2009
A PRAYER BEFORE DRYING
Susan Jones hated her job at the library. Every chance she got, she'd slip away from the Reference Desk to go skinny dipping at Brooks Pond. Hanging her conservative cotton suit and straw hat on a twisted branch, she'd dive in - thrilling at the cool fresh water as it swooshed in caresses around her supple flesh. She usually stopped at the north edge to pick a camelia blossom. This would adorn her hair, adding an exotic Dorothy-Lamour-native-girl touch.
When it was time to leave the pond, Susan would pull a J-Cloth towel from her suit pocket. And as she dried herself, she'd pray that something would happen in her life - some big break - to rescue her from Library purgatory.
© BILL BLAIR 2009