Meredith

He was closer now. The woman looked up. He refused to believe it; not here, not in this place!

She didn't recognize George at first. She called back, "Hi!" Then she saw. She didn't know what to do. Should she run? Should she pretend it wasn't him? What to do?

George was very close. He held up a hand, "Meredith? Is that you?"

Confused, scared, out of her element, Meredith responded, "Trace?"

Not George, it was Trace who answered, "Yes." Not sure what to say next, he asked, "Caught anything?"

She flashed a grin, "Not yet, but I have high hopes."

He answered, "Me too."

Meredith's first reactions had given way to something more subtle, something she couldn't explain. Suddenly she had to pee, but she buckled up her courage, "What are you doing here?"

No longer George, Trace replied, "Sometimes I come here. I keep looking for a younger man. I suppose someone I once knew."

Meredith understood, she whispered, "Me too."

He asked, "Where're you staying?"

She answered, "Got a room over in Buchanan."

He looked off at the river, up at the tree tops, then down at his boots. Finally he said, "I'm camped just up from here. Have an extra sleeping bag. You're welcome to stay the night."

Meredith smiled, "I'd like that."

And so it goes...

by

carvohi