Member-only story
Fishing for Love up a Creek without a Paddle?
Is true love hiding in plain sight?
Below is a fiction, love story I wrote for a publication asking for love stories. They rejected it. I did get some funny feedback explaining that they look for stories with “sighs.” I wrote mine differently than the examples I’d read because I thought they might be tired of the breath-sucking sighs. I hope you enjoy reading it here.
Disclaimer by my husband: “This story is fiction. I know better than the poor, clueless soul Deb is writing about.
Fishing for Love up a Creek without a Paddle?
Is true love hiding in plain sight?
The moment I recognized the professionally wrapped box, suspiciously shaped like a vacuum cleaner, all passion swooshed under the rug.
“Eureka!” I shout, in a breathless Marilyn Monroe-style voice.
“No, it’s a Hoover — Happy Birthday honey.”
“Thanks, dear,” I smile, eyes down, hiding disappointment for the ignored hints sublimely dropped on his head for months. The campaign for my 40th birthday had not been subtle. I clearly stated the need to feel cared for — loved — thought about — special. I planted the clues expertly, like in an Agatha Christie mystery.
