Dorothy passed her time sipping coffee and dreaming at the small street-side cafe in Paris. She watched people passing by her on the streets and wished that she was someone else. Her romantic trip to Paris had turned into her daily life at home. Boredom.

Romance is what she dreamed of. A small, dirty hotel room and cheap souvenirs is all that she had gotten so far. No one had even pinched her cute behind, much to her dismay. The men of Paris obviously were not preoccupied with sex like she had been told. In fact, they were obnoxiously arrogant and self absorbed.

“It’s funny, I really wanted my bottom pinched by some stranger,” she mused alone.

“All this distance and so much money for what?” she pondered. Disappointment was on the verge of becoming depression.

She sighed as she watched a couple strolling along holding hands. She imagined her hand in his, instead of that other girl. She was good at fantasy. It’s too bad that her dreams never became reality. Another long sigh.

“Pardon me, do you have a light?” came the question from behind her. Definitely male. Definitely American. Midwestern at that.

She turned to accept rejection just like every other day. But this time, she was met with approval from the very beginning. His charming smile caused her own to break open. Her first impression resonated within her, “He’s nice. Really nice.”

“Sure, are you an American?” she asked as her hand pilfered through her purse searching for her Bic lighter.

“I am. You?”

“Kansas born, farm raised goodness,” she replied.

Their eyes held each other for a moment. She found the lighter and held it up proudly as she flicked the flame to life. He bent down to light his cigarette and held her hand as he did so.

His touch brought warmth to her, inside of her she felt warmth. It was like a comfy home fire and hot chocolate on a chilly Fall evening.

“Kansas? What part ?” he exhaled.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. Its a little farming community called Dighton.”

“Dighton? You’re kidding! I’m from Sharon Springs! We used to play you guys in football!”

“No! Really? What year did you graduate?”

“1998. You?”

“Me too! We were probably at the same games! Did you ever go to Bops?”

“Bops? I lived there! Best deep dish pizza in the world!” he bragged.

“Oh My Gosh! What are you doing here in Paris?” she blurted out.

He sat down next to her and awkwardly smiled. He fumbled in his thoughts for a few seconds and finally decided to tell the truth, “I don’t know. I guess I’m trying to find love.”

“Have you found it yet?” she asked hopefully.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about the ‘Wizard of Oz,’” he laughed softly.

“What?”

“You know, ‘There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…”

Underneath the table, Dorothy tapped the heels of her red shoes three times and smiled.

Mindy sat alone at one of the large round tables, sipping the same Diet Coke she had been drinking all night. The reception had officially ended almost an hour ago, but the other bridesmaids were still lined up at the bar, flirting with the bartenders and downing their free drinks. They were all giggling and telling stories, while Mindy sat alone wishing the night would end.

One of the bartenders whistled in her direction. “Hey! Girl!” he yelled as she turned to look at him. “Come on! It’s already paid for!”

“No thank you,” Mindy yelled back, raising her half-empty glass of soda. “I got something. Thanks.”

The bartender shrugged and went back to pouring drinks for the other girls. None of them even looked back at her. “Typical,” she muttered out loud, taking the purple carnation off the strap of her dress. She pushed her chair back from the table and started to stand when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see one of the groomsmen standing over her. He smiled and handed her a glass of wine as he took the seat next to her.

“Thanks,“ she said meekly, taking the glass. “Umm…what was your name again?”

“David,” he answered with a warm, friendly smile. “David Hummel. I’m Darren’s roommate. Uh, former roommate. I guess Julie’s his roommate now, huh?”

Mindy laughed nervously. “Yeah, I guess so.“

David looked up and saw one of the bridesmaids waving to get his attention. “I’ll be right back,“ he said, pushing away from the table. Mindy shook her head as she sat her wine glass down and stood up. “Thanks for the drink, David,” she mumbled. She smoothed the purple chiffon on her dress and walked out the door.

The moon was casting a soft white light onto the column-lined walkway in front of her. The slight breeze carried the smell of the salty ocean into her lungs and through her soul. On any other night, she would have thought it was the perfect setting for romance, but there had certainly been no romance for her tonight.

She continued down the walkway to a railing wrapped in ivy, overlooking the ocean below. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply when she again felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to see David standing behind her, smiling. “Where’d you go?” he asked softly.

“Had to get some air,” she sighed, turning to continue down the path.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her by her hand. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He continued holding her hand in his as he looked into her eyes. The moonlight was casting a soft glow on her cheeks. “Why do I keep seeing you alone? Shouldn’t you be having fun with the other girls?”

“It’s a long story,” Mindy sighed. She could feel tears forming in her eyes.

“Well, it’s a long night,” David said, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders. “I‘m all ears.”

"Bella luna" he whispered leaning back against the tree. Isaac's long brown curls nestled among the bark as he gazed at the afternoon sky. He pulled his legs toward his chest and balanced his tattered copy of Harmonice mundi on his knees. Isaac gave no notice to the scurrying Cambridge students. His steely eyes scanned a passage then looked up wistfully at the afternoon moon.

Fwump

Something soft landed in the grass to the right of him. He marked his place in his book and looked around.

Fwump

"What's that?" Isaac closed the book and began to rise. The branches rustled and creaked.

Fwump Fwump Fwump Fwump

"Jesus!" He was in a pink, plump hailstorm. He raised Kepler's Harmonice mundi above his head and cowered.

Plonk!

An apple bounced on the leather cover and into Issac's hand.

An apple? His eyes widened.

An apple. His pulse raced.

An APPLE! Issac's face burst into a triumphant smile. He raised the apple to the sky, offering the red orb to the moon. Numbers swirled into focus in his mind, orbits and paths, vectors and graphs converged into a perfect geometry of sense and reason. His skin glistened with the afterglow of discovery.

In a shower of cream and silk, his world erupted.

She'd jumped out of the tree less gracefully than planned. The young house maid's apron bulged with the mounds of so many apples. She clung to the linen's edges, keeping her treasures secure. The hem of her skirt snagged on a low branch, revealing her ankles and bare feet. She reached to untangle herself and saw Isaac.

Isaac watched as the blush flooded her cheeks, down her long soft neck, spreading across her bosom. The branch pulled at her dress and she bounced forward to steady herself. Isaac choked.

Kepler's work fell to the ground.

She smiled up at him, blue eyes wide. The maid struggled to keep hold of the fruit and rescue her skirt from the branches. The fight between modesty and bounty raged on for several seconds, all the while, their eyes locked. As he leaned forward to help, the branch pulled back violently, tearing away at the soft fabric. For a brief moment, Isaac's eyes fixed on the soft curve of her calf, the smooth skin of her thigh and the perfect round outline of ....

Isaac dropped his apple.

"Ahhhhh," he sighed.

The attractive force of gravity.

Elizabeth saw the little ball of fur in the median and immediately slammed on her brakes. Her small car came to a sudden halt, the sound of her screeching tires accompanied by the blaring horns and colorful language of the drivers around her. She jumped out of the car and ran over to the small puppy trembling in the middle of the highway.

“Oh, you poor thing!” she exclaimed, slowly bending toward the puppy. She reached out and gently gathered the scared animal into her arms. She continued to talk softly to the tiny bundle of fur, oblivious to the traffic streaming past her.

“What is a pretty little girl like you doing in a place like this?” she asked the puppy.

“Good question,” a deep voice answered.

Elizabeth gave a start and spun around, clutching the puppy close to her.

“What is a pretty little girl like you doing in a place like this?” the voice asked again.

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. The man speaking to her wasn’t the most handsome man she had ever seen, but he was definitely one of the most interesting. He was casually dressed in khakis, a dark t-shirt and a leather jacket, but he exuded an aura of power. No, she thought, not power. Self-assurance. He exuded self-assurance and determination. This was a man who decided what he wanted and went after it. She glanced past him and saw the sleek green Jaguar pulled up behind her tiny car. He was apparently very good at getting what he wanted.

“Are you OK?” the man asked. He was obviously concerned by her continued silence.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thanks. You just startled me. I didn’t hear you pull up,” she answered breathlessly.

“I’m glad to hear that. For a moment, I thought I’d scared you off with my pick-up line. It’s a little worn, but it seemed appropriate,” he said with a smile, gesturing to the puppy.

Elizabeth laughed. “You’re right – it’s not the most creative line I’ve heard. Is this little girl yours?” she asked.

“No. I saw her, but it was too late to stop so I turned around and came back. I always stop for puppies and beautiful women. In this case, I got both,” he said. He quickly changed the topic. “Is she hurt?”

“I don’t think so, but she probably needs to see the vet to make sure,” Elizabeth answered. “My vet is nearby, and I’m sure she’ll fit this little one in.”

“Then let’s go. You can’t drive and hold her at the same time, so we’ll take my car. I’ll drive and you can hold her and act as Chief Navigator. Between the two of us, we’ll have this little sweetie taken care of in no time. Then we can talk about us.” Without waiting for her answer, he started back towards his car.

Elizabeth stared at his back for a moment, then followed the sexy, intriguing, puppy-rescuing stranger.

The Student Center was bustling as students hurried to class. As he stepped into the fray, she rounded the corner, full speed ahead. The collision was inevitable. The books flew everywhere like butterflies in a hurricane.

She realized the impact, but the strong winds of love picked her up off of her feet. Literally. She felt her feet leave the ground as his strong arms wrapped around her waist, saving her from the hard pavement below. In a moment of time, she felt the momentum of her body in his arms as they did a complete 360 in the middle of the sidewalk. Her feet never touched the ground.

She saw the world spin around and yet felt at ease and safe as the merry-go-round that she was riding came to a halt. Instinctively, her arms had arrived around his neck, his arms around her waist.

Her eyes. His eyes in hers. Her eyes weren’t blue. They weren’t green. They were the most beautiful shade of turquoise that he had ever seen. Her soft, blonde hair ran across his face. The aroma of her body flooded his mind.

“Are you Ok?” he unconsciously asked out of genuine concern. His eyes dove into her soul.

“Yes, I think so. I bumped my head,” her soft, perfect voice responded. Their eyes never left one another. His arms still held her close, long after the ride was over.

One hand left her waist and gently touched her forehead. “Here?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so.”

Without thinking, he kissed her forehead. He felt the warmth of her body cling even closer. She felt his warm lips touch her skin.

“Laura! We have to go!” yelled her impatient friend from behind.

She still felt his kiss, even though it had passed. She was still in his arms. She didn’t want to be released.

“I have to go,” she reluctantly said.

“You have to go,” he sadly replied. His arms still held her close to him.

“LAURA! We have to GO!” her friend burst out in anxiety.

“I really must go,” she said, not really meaning it at all.

“You really should.”

Reluctantly he released this angel who had fallen into his arms. For the first time, she realized that there were hundreds of students around her watching their tango. Her face turned crimson red in response.

As he picked up her books, she noticed his firm body. It wasn’t the body of a weight lifter, the lines were smooth, the muscles taught. She imagined a mountain lion ready to pounce upon her beating heart. His embrace lingered in her mind.

As he gave her the books, he said, “It was a pleasure bumping into you.”

She laughed as their eyes locked again.

“LAURA! NOW!”

“I have to go.” She quickly turned and hurried towards her Business Law test.

A few seconds later she turned back to look at him. To her surprise, he was running towards her. She felt her heart running to him.

“Oh no, not now,” Sarah muttered as her car sputtered and then stalled. She steered it toward the side of the road as it slowly drifted to a stop. “I told Jimmy that it wasn’t running right.” Jimmy was her nephew, and he also happened to be her mechanic.

Sarah futilely tried to restart the car. This couldn’t happen today. She had a meeting with her first big client, and she couldn’t afford to miss it. This just couldn’t happen today.

But it had. With a sigh, Sarah climbed out and pulled her cell phone from her purse. Jimmy would have to come out and tow the car. Maybe he could drop her off near the client’s office on the way back to a garage. If she was lucky, the client wouldn’t see her climbing out of a tow truck. Talk about a great first impression.

As Sarah was talking with Jimmy, a sleek convertible pulled up behind her. She watched with trepidation as a tall man emerged from the small car. He fit the stereotype of tall, dark and handsome. He was at least six inches taller than Sarah’s own 5’7”, with broad shoulders and an athletic build. His dark hair was cut short to his head, and was slightly tousled from the wind. He walked toward her with an easy, masculine grace that told of extreme self-confidence.

“Hi. Having some problems?” he asked. His voice was deep and slightly rough, but not unpleasant. So why did she get a shiver up her spine at the sound of it?

“If you define an obstinate car and a missed meeting as problems, then I guess so,” Sarah said with a smile.

“I’d say that meets the criteria,” he replied with an answering smile. Sarah caught her breath. The smile transformed his face from attractive to drop-dead gorgeous. She felt another shiver travel up her spine. What was it about this man?

“…if you’d like,” she heard him say as she pulled her wayward thoughts back in line.

“Um, I’m sorry. Could you say that again? I’m afraid that I was thinking about…my car,” she managed to say.

“I understand. I was wondering if I could give you a lift some where. You won’t be in any danger, I promise. I’ll keep the top down, and you can jump out any time. Scout’s honor,” he said with another smile.

Sarah thought for a second. There was something about this man that made her yearn to discover more. “With a promise like that, how could I refuse?”

As he turned and walked towards the car, Sarah took a moment to check him out from the back. His casual shirt emphasized his broad shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist. The fit of his casual pants confirmed her suspicions – he looked every bit as good from the back as he did from the front.

Maybe she owed Jimmy an apology…

I work at Slim’s Pickin’s — you know, the old blues club by Grand Central — so I’ve seen my share of hopefuls. Every guitar hero in the city swaggers through at some time or another, and if you want to be a diva with a smoky voice, you won’t come close to making it until you’ve wrapped your lips around the mic under Slim’s blue spotlight. Most folks pass through on their way to bigger and better dreams, but the cold truth is that playing a gig at Slim’s represents the pinnacle for most of the careers that stop by here.

Kate’s was not going to be like most other musical careers. Her voice filled the club with such intensity you could taste her heartbreak. When she was singing — it didn’t matter what song, she could sing Humpty Dumpty and she’d get you — yeah, when she was singing, it was literally impossible to do anything but curse your inability to tear out your own heart and lay it reverently at her feet.

Everyone fell in love with her, of course. She was one of those perfect creatures that only exist in myth and legend, floating just beyond the reach of any mere mortal. Even for those fortunate few who got to talk with her up close and personal—when I talked with her it was like moving in a dream, you know how you know a conversation took place, but you can’t recall exactly what was said. Like that.

Anyhow, Jess was the only man at Slim’s who never seemed to be affected by Kate’s aura. He had a sad history of his own, and his broken heart made him immune to Kate’s spell. He never would say what he used to do, but at Slim’s he bussed tables, tended bar, and picked out achingly beautiful melodies on a guitar when he thought no one was listening.

The night those two broken hearts chanced to come together was the last time Kate ever sang.

That night, Nora had decided to wear her fake smile and conservative blue dress. Aunt Gloria and Uncle Taylor weren’t the most engaging family members to be dining with. Gloria’s double chin jiggled enthusiastically when she told her un-amusing anecdotes from Rome and Paris, but later stretched over her face like a bear hug when she laughed. Uncle Taylor was a boisterous cooperate success, who had nothing to talk about other than his yacht and Mercedes. There was no doubt in her mind that this was all a formality. But, after all, they were paying for this lavish meal to celebrate her graduation. She could at least pretend to be having a good time.

While Uncle Taylor and Aunt Gloria engrossed themselves into both their meal, and their shared memory of some exotic country, Nora’s eyes roamed lazily around the interior of the restaurant. A remarkably handsome man was at the table just across the way. He was only in profile, but he had a sloping nose and thick dark hair. He was seated at a table for two, but a second person was absent, and in their place he occupied himself in helping his fork practice pirouettes.

“Nora dear? Did you hear what Uncle Taylor said? It was simply hilarious!” Nora snapped her attention back to the table and felt her organs condense into a twisted knot.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I think I’ve heard that story before. But, tell me all about Paris!”

“Oh!” that awful chin hugged Gloria’s face so tightly it almost pulled the smile right back down. With her Aunt off on a tangent, Nora was able to drift her attention back to the man and his ballerina fork. His chin was rested in his hand as stray strands of his hair brushed high on his cheek bones. He leaned further and further out on his elbow, almost as if he were falling asleep waiting for his food. Finally, Nora got a clear view of his face.

He was beautiful. Long lashes and that distinctly sloping nose. His eyes were closed, either from boredom or sleepiness. Nora lingered over his face, fantasizing about what he would look like if he were smiling. Suddenly, she realized he was. He was looking right at her and smiling! Flustered, Nora turned her attention back to the boorish woman on the other side of the table and didn’t look at him for the rest of the night.

What seemed like an eternity later, the meal was finished, the check had been paid, and all were getting up to leave, not intending to see each other again until another family formality event called.

A waiter eagerly caught Nora by the arm right as she was about to leave. His eyes shone with accomplishment as he handed her a small piece of paper and explained, “For you, from Mr. Castle.”

“Mr. Castle?” Nora asked, astonished. The waiter looked frustrated.

“Paul Castle, you know, the one who always plays with his forks?”

I could see his deep brown eyes following me as I moved across the room. I tossed my long blonde hair back over my shoulder and looked around coyly, pretending not to notice his stare. He pushed his shopping cart a little closer to mine, and I edged further away. Like some sort of twisted tango, we followed each other around the produce department for several minutes, moving back and forth with our carts.

I picked up a small cantaloupe and brought it to my nose. Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes, then sighed a loud, dreamy sigh. He raised an eyebrow and flashed a small, confident smile. I turned and strolled past the long rows of vegetables into the baked goods department, all the while noticing he was only steps behind. I could feel his body getting closer to mine as I stopped to study a loaf of bread.

The t-shirt he was wearing was pulled tight across his broad chest, and his dark brown hair was tousled about. A few stray locks hung over his forehead, framing his freshly-shaven face and strong, masculine jaw line. I could smell his cologne drifting past me. The scent was sweet and light, but tremendously strong and powerful at the same time. It filled all my senses in a way they had not been filled before. My heart began to race as I felt him coming closer.

I left my cart sitting near the shelves, and moved slowly towards the dairy case. He followed my lead, inching his way closer with each step. I ran my fingers through my hair and adjusted my collar to expose my long, smooth neck. I glanced his way as he came up on my side. He reached around me, brushing his strong arm against mine as he took a block of cheddar out of the case. My whole body tingled.

I turned to look at him. He was standing only inches away, staring straight into my eyes. He reached out and gently pushed a stray piece of hair out of my face with his fingers. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn’t make a sound. I was mesmerized. He touched my open lips with his finger and brought his mouth to my ear. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered softly. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of folded paper, and delicately placed it into my hands. “This is my number. I hope you will use it.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving his cart and phone number behind. I took a long, deep breath and watched him disappear from my sight. My mind raced with a fresh new feeling of excitement, thinking of what had just happened. A trip to the grocery store had brought me to the man of my dreams.

It’s a cold night and I’m warming up with a few shots of cheap whiskey before heading home. The lounge is dark except for some red glowing candles flickering on a few tables. I watch the smoke dance from my barely-touched cigarette and disappear into the space above me.

“Another round, buddy?” the bartender asks. I wave him off. I stand to leave just as the band starts a new set. It’s an Ella Fitzgerald song, a personal favorite. I glance at my watch as I light up again. I’ll stay for this song. My eyes wander to the door just as she enters. Slowly, I sit down again to take in the vision before me.

Her hair appears to be made of fine golden silk and it spills in gentle waves just past her slender shoulders. The satin red dress she is wearing accentuates nearly every curve on her luscious body. She lacks the warmth of a coat and I watch her entire body tremble as she adjusts to the temperature indoors. A smile plays on my lips as I imagine myself making her tremble in ecstasy. She quickly scans the room from beneath her long, thick lashes and decidedly makes her way to an empty spot at the bar...right next to me. My head begins to spin as I catch a quick breath of her soft perfume. I briefly wonder if I’m dreaming. The siren speaks and I’m rendered still by the melodic tone of her voice.

“Shot of vodka please.”

As the bartender pours, she taps her manicured fingertips on the bar and nervously glances around the room as if expecting to be caught by someone. Finally, her icy blue eyes meet mine and we instantaneously smile at each other.

“Got a light?” she quips, raising an inquisitive brow. She toys with her gold necklace and I fumble with my lighter. Leaning in just a bit, I light her cigarette and then she watches as I down the last swallow of my whiskey. Trying to think of something witty to say, I lose my train of thought as I watch her cross and uncross her creamy white legs. My eyes meet hers again and I’m still incapable of conversation. Just as I am about to politely bow out of the situation, her leg intentionally brushes mine. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks with a sultry smile and a discreet nod toward the exit. I need no further persuading. I stand to leave and drape my coat over her tiny shoulders as she peers up at me in appreciation. Haphazardly, I toss a few bills on the counter to cover the tab and lead her out into the night. I look down at her again, just to make sure she’s real. She smiles up at me in return. The sensuous crooning of the jazz singer seems to linger on the night air behind us. I shake my head in amazement. God, I love that song.