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the question
Posted by Half-lit, Oct 30, 2008. 1052 views. ID = 1948
This post was written in 1 minutes.
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 | this was a grabbag but my server dropped the ball... Just trying to creat a feeling of nervousness as I am sure we all felt whn asking someone we liked out on a date |
 | This post has been awarded 11 stars by 3 readers. |
As though a leaf that is pressed between the pages of a scrap book; I find myself wrestles and wrought with tension and unease. I stand against my locker, wringing my hands together in a ball, over and over moving the blood from the veins making them pail.
In a deep breath of nervousness; I pull myself strait, close my locker door, stand with a stammer of uncertainty, walk three (seemingly mile long) steps and ask; “Jamie, would you go to the prom with me?”
Filled with a deep feeling of relief and cautious nervousness at the same time; I am left waiting with bated breath as I study her face.
Blushing almost instantly and looking at me like a deer being caught in headlights, she cases the bustling student filled hall, looking to see if anyone heard me ask “the question”.
Copyright 2008 Half-lit. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
 | This post has been awarded 11 stars by 3 readers. |
Comments
Ah! You left us hanging!
~Posted by BatteryAcid, Nov 3, 2008
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