Karen paused to have her picture taken. When she was sure that no one observed her she formed snowballs she tossed over the edge onto men walking below in the village. The ones who survived invariably climbed the stairs to the overlook to see what had happened. They found Karen waiting, smiling coyly. The men, who unanimously found her beautiful after the blow to the head, asked to take her picture. They parted, content with Karen's innocent image lingering in their mind and camera. The second snowball was usually fatal.
Story #122
6 comments:
My exfiancee operated similarly. When I saw her I was intregued, but she wouldn't give me the time of day. Then when I got the message and stopped paying attention to her, it upset the balance of nature in her head, and she asked if she could read my palm. Er, okay. She spent the next two hours in that public place holding my hand. When I asked her what was her natural hair color was, since I'd spent so much time starting into her scalp at where the black dye job ended and the reddish roots began, she said "That's for me to know and you to find out."
That was, so to speak, the first snowball I stopped with my braincase.
hehe. See now there's a woman who knows how to get a man's attention. She has spunk.
Love and Light
You know- I tried that technique once... except they weren't snowballs they were snow cones. Rainbow snow cones. It didn't work too well.
these are great!! I didn't know how to comment on the blog as a whole so I just picked "Karen."
Thank you, whoever you are. You can always leave a general comment in the guestbook. Hope to "see" you again.
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