Mini NoNoWriMo -- 367 words

Day 3 --- Follows what happened on Day One, but I make no promises that this is going to emerge in anything like chronological order. Oh well!
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She's standing there in shock, her shirt sodden with beer, and the guy is apologizing, she knows---but it all washes over her. Every time he swipes at her with the tiny bar rag in his big paw, she feels another wave of sensation that's one part sexual attraction and one part something else entirely. It's disorienting, and Nancy has to fight an urge to curl up against him like a limpet and just hang on.

When he offers to buy her a new shirt, she nods. Anything to get out of this bar she had no especial desire to be in in the first place...he's fine looking man, she thinks as he leads her to the nearest vendor (less than twenty feet from the bar entrance). Not pretty---she's never had a taste for pretty men---rugged. Yup, that's it. Rugged. Lots of thick, dark hair, just starting to grizzle at the temples, two days worth of beard...he's a few years older, she gets that much just from contact, but less than ten years, and at her age, well, the young ones may be appealing, but the older ones are more interesting.

He buys two shirts, one for her and one to replace his own unsavory garment. Identical shirts, and Nancy fights a strong feeling of vertigo. Animal magnetism, is her hazy thought. When she was a little kid, she'd heard the expression and thought of the little plastic dogs with magnets on the bottom...now, that's just what she feels like, as if she should arch up and kiss him, scour her cheeks against his whiskers...it's all she can do not to get ahead of herself.

She's got to do something quick; he's about to apologize one last time and disappear from her life, and the prospect is so alarming that Nancy sways on her feet, trying to stop him. He reaches out to steady her, and the strength in that one hand on her shoulder makes her feel weaker still. "You okay?"

"Low blood sugar," she manages to say, which might even be true, now that she thinks about it. And he responds as she hoped he would, and they can talk over lunch.

Mini NoNoWriMo -- 367 words

Day 3 --- Follows what happened on Day One, but I make no promises that this is going to emerge in anything like chronological order. Oh well!
===============

She's standing there in shock, her shirt sodden with beer, and the guy is apologizing, she knows---but it all washes over her. Every time he swipes at her with the tiny bar rag in his big paw, she feels another wave of sensation that's one part sexual attraction and one part something else entirely. It's disorienting, and Nancy has to fight an urge to curl up against him like a limpet and just hang on.

When he offers to buy her a new shirt, she nods. Anything to get out of this bar she had no especial desire to be in in the first place...he's fine looking man, she thinks as he leads her to the nearest vendor (less than twenty feet from the bar entrance). Not pretty---she's never had a taste for pretty men---rugged. Yup, that's it. Rugged. Lots of thick, dark hair, just starting to grizzle at the temples, two days worth of beard...he's a few years older, she gets that much just from contact, but less than ten years, and at her age, well, the young ones may be appealing, but the older ones are more interesting.

He buys two shirts, one for her and one to replace his own unsavory garment. Identical shirts, and Nancy fights a strong feeling of vertigo. Animal magnetism, is her hazy thought. When she was a little kid, she'd heard the expression and thought of the little plastic dogs with magnets on the bottom...now, that's just what she feels like, as if she should arch up and kiss him, scour her cheeks against his whiskers...it's all she can do not to get ahead of herself.

She's got to do something quick; he's about to apologize one last time and disappear from her life, and the prospect is so alarming that Nancy sways on her feet, trying to stop him. He reaches out to steady her, and the strength in that one hand on her shoulder makes her feel weaker still. "You okay?"

"Low blood sugar," she manages to say, which might even be true, now that she thinks about it. And he responds as she hoped he would, and they can talk over lunch.