The Jar Collector

Along Emerald Avenue is a small park, one with trees and benches and green grass. On most days, a lot of people pass by, either to smoke or to lounge around as they wait for friends. But today feels different and I am all alone save for the stranger sitting beside me.

Her perfume is thick as if concealing another scent. Her features are a perfect ensemble: from smooth white skin, a curvaceous figure, and eyes that are slanted just right to give her that exotic look that hints at both Asian and European ancestry yet confirming neither.

At first she ignores me and I her but one tires easily of listening to the wind. She relents first, looks at me, and asks a question.

Can I tell you secret?” Continue reading