When she found me, I was skipping rope.
Whoosh, jump, snap.
With each turn of the rope, I glimpsed key features.
Her locks, dark.
Her eyes, bright.
Her mouth, agape.
My eyes darted away, for fear of her catching my gaze.
She found me.
©2017 Stephanie Abbott. All rights reserved. I wrote this piece in response to a prompt in the post “Loving In The Face Of Fear #MondayMusings” by Corinne Rodrigues. #WriteTribe