It’s funny how you can spend your entire day baking and come home and bake some more. But that’s what I did last night.
After a delicious dinner with my parents – my mom seriously makes the best meatballs on the planet – I came home and decided to make my mom a batch of Chocolate-Covered Cherry Cookies. Her favorite, of course.
I took my time making the dough and even more time filling the cookies. I guess I figured that the longer I took making her cookies, the more likely I was to forget about what I saw yesterday afternoon.
I haven’t told anyone about it. I didn’t tell April when I went back to the bakery – though I did have some explaining to do when I came back without lattes. I didn’t tell my parents over dinner. And I didn’t call anyone when I went home.
But I thought about that guy – at least I think it was a guy. He haunted me. The outline of his body stalked me. I found myself trying to picture him coming toward me to see whether I could remember any real features like hair, height, build but I could see nothing.
And how do you tell people about a nothing? You can’t – not even if his mere presence made the hairs on your arm stand up and sent shivers up your back.