Prologue

I pull up in my car to her house. She's beautiful, stunning, perfect. Her long, cute, blonde hair. Her petite size. She's mesmerizing. I'd love to learn her name, her smell, what she likes to eat. Even her house is perfect. Nicely trimmed bushes and trees, very robust brick house, and neatly cut grass. Very green like it's watered and catered to everyday. A gardener? Husband? Maybe. She looks to be about 25 but could pass for 18. She needs me in her life and I need her. I wonder what kind of shampoo she uses. Dove? Suave? I bet it smells like roses in a bright summer day. This is it. This is the day I meet her. What do I say? What do I say to a beautiful girl like her? Maybe I should just wing it. Maybe spontaneous reaction is needed. I can't wait any longer. I step out of my Bronco. I leave it running because it's to hot to leave it off. I approach her. She's still unaware of my presence. She's still so focus on those poppies she obviously planted because if she didn't she wouldn't be so intrigued. I finally get close enough to engage conversation.

"I love those flowers." I say

She looks back at me with a warm smile, the most perfect teeth I've ever seen. I want them.

"Thank you." She says

"It took me a lot of tries to get them this pretty."

Damn. Her legs in those khaki shorts looks as if they were crafted my God himself. Such a pretty sight. I still see she has some work to do on the little garden she has. A few unplanted flowers here and there.

"Do you need any help?" I ask

"I may not be an expert, but I've been told to have a very green thumb."

"By who?" She rebutled

"By me." I say back to her

She smiles a little bit again.

"Ok Mr expert, grab that shovel behind me. We're gonna get rid of this old tree stump here. It's so ugly isn't it?"

"It sure is" I say

I grab the shovel with both hands. Fairly new. A little shine on the spade. Is she a clean freak? Perhaps just passionate about perfect craft. Either way I'm not complaining. So far no flaws. She's the one for me I'm sure of it. If this isn't a sign from higher beings then I don't know what is. She is still focused on this embellishing flowers. I hoist the shovel up. Then…"WACK"

Right…on…her…head. So hard it dented the spade. Shameful. It was a decent shovel from the looks of it. But her…even unconscious. She is still so beautiful. I can't stop staring at her. The way she lies on the ground is like painting a picture. Minus the blood of course. I can hear her voice in my head. She's telling me to take her home. I will… I will take her home where she belongs. I couldn't think of a better opportunity to introduce myself. Hello, this is me.