What follows is offered in response to Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word Challenge. The challenge, this week, is "Inhaled".
Summer was the best. She wore light dresses then, the breeze captured her scent, carried it to him, lightly playing over him and giving him his daily dose of HER.
Every day she came this way, through the park, on her way to wherever it was she worked, and every day he inhaled her scent, as if in doing so, she entered him and stayed with him, and he was hers and she was his.
But he was invisible. Old. And wizened. And yet, the young man inside of him still needed, still loved, still desired.
So he inhaled.