VI
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..... Her thoughts fought against trying to decipher the hurriedly scripted handwriting, and the feeling that it was actually, somehow very familiar. Jillian became nauseous with it the more she read. It appeared to be a diary written in very graphic detail by a rather sick individual.
“January 12th …searching - for a person willing, interested, and yet controllable is a challenge and exciting. Some rides are too brief…I took the day off and drove around the seedier parts of Fort Worth. Saw a few prospects. One I watched for 30 min… a black girl with a college backpack ... she noticed me…”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The older brown haired man had given himself a time frame in which to have some – fun. He was either bored or driven, they played on one another it seemed and it had grown into an obsession; a burning rage. That obsession was about to become more than simply picking up strange women. Today he would burst through that glass ceiling and taste the ultimate taboo for himself. The driver circled another block as he listened to Alan Parsons Project’s Eye to eye. He felt more ‘damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t’ than he did singing along with the ‘I long you’ part.
Up ahead he saw a thin, blonde hair thing balancing a cute walk along on the curb. With outstretched arms she flew in her own imaginary world for a blissful moment. His excitement began to mount. Yet, as the driver came alongside the cute tightrope walker, another older man approached and called her by name. The driver’s smile faded as she joyously turned about with ‘Daddy’! The Ford Mustang began to pull away from the curb, only to restart his scouting mission. Disappointed, but that was the nature of the game he played.
Letting out a dissatisfied sigh, he cruised through the green light. The driver’s plotting hopes began to rise again upon seeing a sleek pair of beautiful legs up ahead. They were jutting out and were all he could see from the sheltered bus stop. As he came alongside the covered bench, he saw the owner’s amazing body and his interest was captivated. The African girl was trying to fit in as an American, which made his grin broaden into a wide smile. Her huge hooped earrings, frayed short shorts, sandals, and sporting earbuds connected to her smart phone reeked of youth. Her huge afro rose up just in time to catch his nod.
An impatient driver behind the Mustang began honking that the light had changed and he was unwilling to witness the stalled traffic any longer. The Mustang’s driver turned right. In that skittish moment the older man hoped that he had not lost this exciting prospect to an arriving bus by the time he was able to circle another block. Fifteen minutes of his allotted hour was already spent searching for her. Still, if that proved the case he would keep a keen eye out for any other hopefuls along the way. Two and now rounding a third right hand turn; he went as fast as he could. Yet, the bumper to bumper traffic was driving him crazy. His eyes lit up upon seeing the long legs in short shorts meandering about the street light beyond the building’s edge. She was peering in his direction; he hoped. The brown haired man’s chest pounded loudly, as did something else.
The eroding away of his hour window had suddenly became meaningless as her smile exploded upon seeing his car’s approach. The slow advance gave his reeling thoughts time to plan out how to toss her backpack into the backseat. His smile was on devising an excuse to buckle her in while brushing against those amazing bare legs. The college student looked eager for a ride, and had grown bored with bus waiting; he was more than willing to provide the lift. Everything was about to get real as she leaned through his open car window.
CONTINUE Reading... 7
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