Mo’s Solo Ten-Minute Writing
DANCING / HOT
We never planned on living this long. Like everyone else our age we got married, had kids, sent them to college and helped raise the grand kids. But when Henry and I turned 80, he began gardening. Built himself a hothouse right out there beside the old tool shed. I never knew what he was up to most of the time until one day he came inside, washed off his hands, kissed me softly on the cheek and said, “I want you to come outside with me. I want to share something with you.” And that was the first time I saw that amazing Honeysuckle Rose. It was the most exquisite rose I’d ever laid my eyes on. I mean, the fragrance from that rose was intoxicating. It filled the room with such an exhilarating scent I felt lightheaded and had to take a seat. When I did, I could take in the beautiful hues emitting from the petals of the ten giant flowers in overflowing that huge clay pot. Beautiful honeysuckle yellows like a day of sunshine and peaches so peachy I could almost reach over and eat one. I’m saying I felt so light I could have floated up to heaven. Harry was feeling the same exhilaration that he took my hand and twirled me round and round like a beautiful ballerina. Oh it was so lovely that day dancing in the hothouse, right out into the garden surrounded by more Honeysuckle Roses. Twirling and swirling round and round until I could hardly breath. I had to have a drink of water, so Henry took my hand and lead me into the cool kitchen where we both drank water until it spilled down both sides of our mouths. He lead me upstairs and made we made love like two twenty year olds.
MoDau 