The Tour

 

Farfalla <blueberrysnail@yahoo.com>

 

 


They lay in the antique wooden bed, wrapped more in each other than in the old-fashioned quilt that they'd kicked away. Iowa summers were hot, and their bodies cooled as love-brewed sweat misted into the air.

"Mom, he followed me home; can I keep him?" Kirk asked the welcoming night with a wistful smile.

McCoy chuckled warmly.

"I'm glad I brought you here. Seeing it through your eyes..." Kirk thought of green soybean fields, blue skies, and gentle creeks. He'd forgotten them while off exploring galaxies. "Showing you my hometown has made me see beauty here for the first time."

//

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