I rushed to catch him, but found myself unable to stop my own momentum, (guess I'm not the only one having strength-to-weight ratio problems,) and tripped over a rock. That's a new experience; I've never tripped before. Now that I've tried it, I think I'll leave it to the professionals.In the meantime, Mark had managed to get his wings going, but still had no directional control, and was weaving all over the place, sometimes upside down. Finally, he reached the wall of the adjacent building, which stopped his first flight rather abruptly. Fortunately, we pixies are fairly resilient, and he escaped with little damage.Slowly, and tentatively, I walked over to where Mark was sitting on the pavement. He looked up at me with a wry grin."Maybe I ought to just ride on your shoulder for a bit, until I get the hang of it."We made our way back to the car, having only minor difficulties getting over the fence. I thumped my head on the roof of the car as I attempted to get into the driver's. I gave my final congratulations to the happy couple, shook hands with the parents and the best man, and eyed the door. Lisa was close on my heels. “So, hey, Andrew left. You mind giving me a ride home?” Lisa asked. Or, those were the words she spoke. Everything in her voice and manner said, “Want to take me to bed?” I never bothered to clarify. I grabbed a bottle of champagne from behind the bar, walked out with her on my arm to my rental car, and drove straight to my motel. I poured us each a glass of bubbly in the sad plastic courtesy glasses provided by the motel. Lisa sat on the TV stand/dresser. Her long lovely legs were on display as they pierced the slit of the gown. The three-inch heels of her strappy sandals hung a foot above the carpet. I stood awkwardly, leaning against the door. We didn’t say a lot. There was a lot of eye contact with the occasional drunken, spontaneous giggle. What were we waiting for? Lisa chugged the last of her champagne, hopped off the.
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