Finding the Woo by Shelly Knox Sarah sighed as the corner of her mouth turned up a delicate smile. Social Magazine released her first print article yesterday. The editorial group purchased her feature to replace a previous choice slated for this issue. The editor told Sarah her article was refreshing. Her pink nail ran across her by-line for the umpteenth time, as goosebumps peppered her arms. Sarah didn’t think anyone would purchase an outdated view on how the Millennials and Generation-Zs handle courtship; compared to the Lost Generation and the GI Generation, let alone be thrilled! She’d just enjoy it if the spotlight helped her find someone a little quirky like herself. Because, truth be told, she yearned for the courtship of those generations—when a man put forth the effort to woo a woman. She slipped the magazine into her satchel and headed off to her writer’s group meeting. Sitting in the overstuffed winged chair in the corner of the host's family room, Sarah let the steam of the lemon tea infuse her senses then took a sip. The tea soothed her throat as the sourness of the lemon ignited her taste buds. Several new faces stood out as the warmth of the chair’s fabric cuddled her. Jon opened the meeting. His loud, growly voice was a contrast to the short, effeminate man that stood before them each week. He introduced several new members; Gabbie, Mikaela, and Sam. Each new member stood up and shared a little of their biography; and the rest shared a brief reading of their writings since the last meeting. When Sam commenced, the smooth baritone of his voice caused Sarah’s heart to catch as their gaze locked. It may have only lasted a second, or two, but it was enough for the silver glitter to
brighten his indigo-blue eyes. After a brief pause, he finished his short biography. Sarah didn't know what happened. He didn't look familiar, it wasn't what he said; but it was as if she recognized his voice, the deep notes seized her retrospection and promised more. After the meeting, Sam approached her. “I know this is an old line, but have we met before?” He proffered his hand toward hers. His grip was gentle, just the right pressure. “It is a very old line, but I had thought the same during your introduction.” She finished stuffing her notebook and writing instruments into her satchel. After slinging his backpack over one shoulder, Sam asked, “I don’t mean to be forward, but, is there any chance I can take you for a cup of coffee so we can figure out where we met? It’s driving me nuts!” “I’d like that. There’s a nice place just a couple of miles from here called the Writer’s Nook. It’s a combination bookstore, coffee shop, and deli. I can give you directions and meet you there.” Sam agreed. - 42 -
