Six Sentence Sunday
He flashed me a whiter than Vanna White smile, which only succeeded in making me feel like dweeby Pat Sajak. I guess that meant God was Merv Griffin and He was laughing His ass off. The handsome stranger held his hand out to me and for some bizarre reason, I took it.
He pulled me to my feet and then turned to walk away. I stared at his backside, wondering if I had hit my head at some point, sure this couldn’t be real because Merv Griffin only knows—actual people weren’t so glorious.
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