loradayton

It was a distinct but fleeting moment. We laughed at something stupid; a la:( dick joke, but it tickled our funny bones. We rolled with laughter, loud guffaws from the belly up as we walked out the door and into the damp springtime air. Myself, a known klutz, tripped on an upturned corner of the door mat. I stumbled forward just a half-step. Your hand reached out to stop my fall—palm flat on my stomach. My breath hitched as it sunk into my softness. I caught your gaze; frozen, unsure. A flush crept up my neck and flamed my cheeks. I knew that at that moment you were acutely aware that the body I clothed did not look underneath as my clothes made it appear. You just giggled again and your eyes crinkled at the corners. I thought I imagined your fingers pressing just a bit deeper as we climbed into our cab. The mirth eased my nerves more than the alcohol, though, and I didn’t mind your hand on my thigh during the ride home, where I fell asleep with a dopey smile and my cheeks still

The Woman Who Fell from the Tree an inflation fantasy by Lora Dayton commissioned by GuildmasterPascal The brisk fall air cooled Morgan’s cheeks. The sun, when it peeked through the canopy, was warm and inviting but the shade was not too cool. A bright red or gold leaf dropped here and there, lazily floating to the ground. Morgan sipped her latte—pumpkin spice, of course—and snuggled into her peacoat. She inhaled the subtly sweet scent of the forest. Every few steps a twig crunched beneath her boot. For a moment, something hollow tapped deep in her chest. Morgan enjoyed her own company greatly but she couldn’t help but wish to share the scenery, fresh air, and romantic solitude with someone. As she observed the trail, she couldn’t help but notice cozy alcoves where two lovers could sneak off to for some plein air frivolity, whispers in each other’s ears muffled from passersby by the breeze rustling the leaves. She continued down the path, lost in her thoughts and silly romantic