Kissing Pumpkin
Sharing an umbrella leads to more.
I saw her, auburn hair a beacon, browsing the bookshelf marked ‘Supernatural.’ “Hello, Baby Pumpkin.” She started, then twisted towards me, her face lit by a broad smile. “Oh, Daddy, you surprised me.” “Come.” I grasped a hand and led her through the shop. Outside was autumnal, grey and murky, with a fine drizzle. I opened my umbrella, and we walked beneath it to a nearby railing. We turned, facing each other, her generou...