Andrea (TEA) Clinton Author







Love at First Plight


Life, laughter and everyday living sets the tone for this strange love story about a young woman left home alone. After a subtle roller coaster ride of emotions, she finds herself thinking, "Just when you think life's done ripping you apart..."

Another very intriguing read by Author, Andrea Clinton.


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He turned to me, “Why don’t we go out just to shut these two up,” then he winked.


“Sure, why not. Maybe we’ll have a nice time,” I replied with a smile.


“So, where are your hot spots? Where do you go and what do you call fun?” Kyce asked.


“I go to clubs of course,” I said as I smiled. What? It was all I could think to say. I didn’t say I was perfect. I said I was trying to get more into a religious way of life. And I didn’t go to clubs often, but did when it was a friends birthday, and still didn’t drink.


“Of course, you hang with Maureen so I know you go to clubs,” he said.


Me and Maureen laughed, “Of course,” Maureen said.

“Maureen, take the baby over there to bed,” pointing to her youngest daughter to finally join the other who’d already fallen asleep and was carried to bed, “then let’s get us all some sweet potato pie and butter pecan ice cream,” as they both got up, one after the other.

Again being slick, they left us alone. He wouldn’t let up though, “So, tell me, talk to me. What do you call fun. I don’t want you going to your friends and telling them, “You know where this fool took me,” then we both laughed.

“I dunno, what? Movies, museums, shopping, I love to hang out in New York and try different great chef’s food. I like to go to Central Park sometimes, sit and just watch people, get ideas for poetry by watching the various New Yorkers and tourist; I’ll even go down to Washington Park,” then he cut me off.

“No! I’m not going down to Washington Square, no, no, no. That’s how rumors start,” he said, shaking his head.

“Aaaaaaah!” I burst out laughing. Homo-phobe?” as I continued laughing.

“No, not—yeah, maybe I am, I dunno. I don’t even wanna go there with this conversation,” as he turned his head.

“Naaa, I feel you. But, I like art, I’m trying to get into art appreciation. I don’t know; I just like doing things. Even if it’s just sitting on a beach and watching the waves; sleeping and talking and sleeping, and, talking.”

“Maxin’ and relaxin’ huh?” he said.

“For real—for real. What do you like doing?”

“Same, movies, plus bowling, rifle range in PA, horseback riding, fishing, aaaand, paintballing,” as he looked at me to see if I was into that.

“I can go watch you shoot and get shot by others, but, I’m not doing that,” I said.

“Aaaaw! Come on!” Laughing, “Stop being a li’l girl,” he said.

“I’ll be that. Those paintballs hurt,” I said.

“Aaaah, child’s play,” he said laughing.

“Child’s play? But I’m the li’l girl? Wooow! Men are a trip. Forever contradicting; that was such an oxymoron. Stop being a little girl, but then say the paintballing is child’s play,” as I laughed.

“Aiight, you got me. You got me. It’s ok, I wouldn’t take you there on a first date anyway. I’d wait ‘til we’re married and get into a bad argument and then say, ‘Hun, let’s go paintballing,’ hahahahaaaa,” with his smug, cute laugh.

“You are too much,” I said, shaking my head at him and flattered at marriage not being an issue or taboo for him to think about or discuss—so long as he didn’t get carried away with marriage talk so soon.

“Naaaa, you just bring the comedian out of me. But honestly, okay, let’s do the beach. I know it’s after Labor Day, but it’s supposed to be 88 degrees tomorrow. We can walk, talk, laugh, eat, drink, see a movie and whatever comes natural,” he said getting serious.

“Fine. No problem—should be fun. The governor’s fest’ should be over and the crowds mostly gone.”

That was the last time I saw him at his and his mom’s home. And that was some good sweet potato pie and butter pecan ice cream. Darn shame how things went and blocked my sweet potato pie.





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