996 Reads 41 Votes 1 Part Story
Gail Runschke By gailrunschke Updated Aug 10, 2014

I should have known when I met him .  .  .

But I was so young, naïve and sweet 

That I could not see much past my feet

When he took me to his secret suite.


Basement suites are known to be quite dark. 

The house was opposite Duchess Park, 

One of the first schools built in our town. 

Sad to say, it has since been torn down. 


I recall the main room being dim .  .  .

Instead of looking for some signs of clutter, 

I was infatuated, in a flutter. 

This handsome fellow knew how to cook 

Had no need for a recipe book.


I really could not believe my eyes 

When he grilled two steaks and made French fries. 

He produced Crepe Suzette for dessert, 

Not a single splash on his white shirt.


Surely the least I could do was to help him .  .  . 

When we finished the meal, I rinsed the dishes, 

Assuring him that the meal was delicious. 

No Aussie bloke ever treated me that way. 

I did not need too much convincing to stay. 


Before I knew it, he produced a liqueur. 


  • betrothal
  • books
  • clutterbug
  • disease
  • flare
  • gail
  • hoarders
  • husband
  • junk
  • magazines
  • papers
  • piles
  • runschke