Inside jacket and sweatshirt, long sleeves and long johns, I shiver. The day should eventually warm enough to wake the Japanese beetles from their frosted stupor, but right now we're all a little sluggish. Fingers unfeeling and shoulders stiff against the wind. It's a cold October morning at the farmer's market.
I fumble with the money and drink even more coffee. Goosebumps stand shoulder-to-shoulder all over my skin. I wore the wrong shoes.
The sky is still gray when he hands me a bunch of kale. He digs for his money. My mouth wants to hang open but my jaw is too stiff with cold. That's a good thing. It's rude to stare.
He's wearing a plain white t-shirt. His arms are bare. I can't believe it.
I know it's not winter yet, but that wind is downright cold. My skin hasn't thickened up to the new season, I guess. I'm still shivering.
As I hand him the bag, the backs of my fingers make brief contact with his palm. It's warm. Too warm.
I thank him and he turns. His ponytail surprises me, snaking down to the middle of his back.
As he walks away, I can't help but think of werewolves.
{No, not the Twilight kind. The real kind.}
I laugh at my amped up imagination. But hey, you never know. Tomorrow is Halloween, after all.
