You're on a date with your favorite author. What do you do?
A Date with Mark Twain
By Deborah J Lindsey
I watched him as he stood at the rail of the steamer and gazed into the night. The shimmering colors in his white suit coat and silver hair caught the moonbeams and sent them dancing across the waves.
It was Mark Twain! I was sure of it.
I retreated to a deck chair and hastily penned a note. “I’m from Calaveras County and I have a frog in my handbag. I could show him to you at our next stop.” I drew a heart around my words for effect. I was all about effect and besides, it was Valentine’s Day.
I arose and glided over to him. He stood as before, lost in thought and lost in the night. I slipped the paper into his vest pocket. He reached in and removed the note. He read it and turned to me. He only nodded and went back to his thoughts.
All passengers were to embark the next morning as we had reached our destination. I registered at the only hotel in town. After much nervous speculation on what best to wear, at last I came down to the lobby to wait for him. I primped my hair in the hotel mirror and smoothed invisible wrinkles from my skirt for the hundredth time. I had dressed with special care, thinking he would most certainly ask me to dine or perhaps even rent a carriage and take in the sights.
Finally, he came down the stairs taking wo at a time. He wore a worn and frayed riding jacket. His pants tucked were tucked into a pair of cracked and dusty boots. He grinned at me and seemed to immensely enjoy the flabbergasted look that must have dominated my face.
When he reached my side, he bowed low and kissed my carefully gloved hand. He then guided me out through the hotel’s double doors and whispered into my ear.
“Let’s go do some frog jumpin’ Darlin’!”
C Copyright February, 2017 by Deborah J Lindsey