Thwonk

by Joan Bauer

  “Don’t,” I ordered, “even think about it, kid!”

  He threw the mudball at a pigeon. I brushed myself off. Photography is a dangerous passion, not for the fainthearted.

  I started running again and the ooze kept dripping as Jonathan fluttered in the deep places of my heart. I was flying by the seat of my designer jeans; Stieglitz was at my heels. I passed a really cute guy in a metallic-blue jacket and gave him only a fleeting glance because there’s a lot more to life than genetic perfection. A blue mist broke through the gray sky, unleashing streams of pure sunshine, and I knew that Jonathan was watching me. He was there like a little sunbeam brightening everything I did.

  I flopped on the steps of Petrocelli’s Poultry and lifted my face to the warm, filtered light.

  Maturity sure has its moments.

  Click here for more titles by this author

  Books by

  JOAN BAUER

  Backwater

  Best Foot Forward

  Hope Was Here

  Rules of the Road

  Squashed

  Stand Tall

  Sticks

  Thwonk