First Date

by Gary Percesepe

She was hair and bruises with a shot of ragamuffin. Skin dusty white, her eyes aqua green. She strolled toward me like the last word, adrift within her own circumstance. My first face smiled, my second sniffed with pleasure. This is the hardest part, I thought. It was predictable and lovely, and my heart struggled to accommodate it. I moaned softly and wished for something terrible.