A moment made humble.
“Do you remember your first kiss?” Summer asked of her mother.
“Oh, darling, that was such a long time ago.” She thought for a moment. “It certainly wasn’t with your dad.”
“That would be a no, then?” Summer was despondent.
“Yes, that would be a no. … What about you?” Her mother asked, mildly curious. “Do you remember yours?’
Summer thought for a moment. Dare she tell her mother the truth of that first moment her lips touched those of another? She’d never mentioned it before. Too much shame attached to it. Not a kiss by choice; a kiss by chance. Someone else’s chance. No romance. A moment of groping in a dark theatre by a boy who’d asked her out under false pretences; her boundaries crossed when she had no border guard. All she’d wanted to do was watch The Pink Panther.
“No, mother, I don’t remember my first kiss.”
Sadly, not all first kisses are what we might wish.
Written in response to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday challenge.
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©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014