Just Passing Through

Flash Fiction, by C.J. Heck

People who know me know I’m well-grounded, practical, fairly logical, honest, and I don’t believe in love at first sight. Well, I’ve learned there is something close to it out there, but wait, I’ll tell you what happened. You decide ...

I find it interesting, the way a memory can be triggered by a smell, a taste, even a sound we heard a long time ago. Sometimes, we even relive it like it happened only minutes before.

I had day like that once ...

I can still feel the hot breeze; taste the gritty dust that covered everything; still hear the ding-ding-ding from the old-fashioned red and white gas pumps as someone filled their tank, and I can still smell the mingled aromas of diesel and gas.

It was mid-August, 'The Dog Days of Summer', and it was stinking hot. I was on a road trip somewhere out west to nowhere in particular, just going from here to there and taking a few days to do it.

I stopped for gas and a cold soda at a truck stop someplace along a two-lane road. Not ready to get back inside the steamy car, I sat on a large rock with my soft drink in the shade of the only tree I could find. It felt good to stretch my legs.

I savored the ice cold soda while mopping the sweat and dust from my face and neck with a wet paper towel from the restroom. Then I heard door hinges whine in grave protest. When I looked up, I saw a man climbing out of an old rusted blue pickup parked on the side of the road.

He was hard to miss ... tall, wiry, with long lean bowed legs walking in a slow, sexy stride. He was wearing run-down leather boots, tight worn jeans, and a blue plaid shirt, the kind with the little pearl snaps down the front, and his sleeves were rolled up. It was a picture too good not to look at and God help me, I stared.

He was walking straight towards me, but I couldn’t help myself. Watching him walk was pure poetry. When he got closer, I saw a tan road-mapped face staring back through ice-blue eyes. Like it had nowhere better to go, the hot wind ruffled the sandy blond hair sticking out from under his western hat.

He had a rugged muscular look, one that hinted of riding horses and squinting in the sun all day and sleeping under the stars at night and all so perfectly packaged in those tight worn blue jeans. He caught me staring and I was stunned when he stopped right in front of me. He touched a finger to the hat cocked to one side, threw me a wink, a quick nod, and with a crooked smile, he drawled, “Maaa’am.”

That was all he said, but it was enough. I heard the sexy Texas accent and, like icing on a cake, that was the finishing touch. Then he walked away, leaving me breathless. As he passed by, my eyes were drawn to the back of those tight blue jeans and the perfect ass that filled them.

My emotions ran high that afternoon. I’m still not sure why I was so mesmerized, but I was. There was just something about the man. We were two strangers just passing through and the only thing that ever crossed between us was a wink, a nod, a crooked smile, and that sexy Texas drawl.

It wasn’t love at first sight, but it sure as hell was … something.

Did he feel it, too?

We’ll never know ...

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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