Exclusive Excerpt:
Movement from my right catches my attention. Stopping in front of the window, my breath catches. The most beautiful woman in the world is stringing orange lights around the window with tears streaming down her face. She’s petite with curves in all the right places. Her long blonde hair shines like the sun with blue eyes that remind me of the sky on a cloudless summer day. Even red rimmed and puffy, she glows like a goddess.
I’m drawn to her in a way I’ve never felt before. It confuses me and yet draws me closer to the window.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen a woman cry. Not by a long shot, but it is the first time my heart constricts in my chest as I watch her tears continue to flow down her cheeks. She doesn’t even notice me standing out here gawking at her, she’s crying so hard.
I have an unexplainable urge to go to her and wrap her in my arms, but I know I would only distress her more. Who wants a stranger taking pity on them? Especially when that person is a filthy stranger.
If I come up to her, I’m sure she’ll be scared of me. I know what I look like. Who I am.
Growing up I was always the tallest person in my grade or school. To go along with my tall frame, I was so wiry everyone made fun of me calling me a beanstalk or skeleton along with the names they’d called me since we moved to town. I’ve been called a loner, creep, loser, and over the past few years a filthy beast. Once I got into high school, I started lifting weights hoping the snickers behind my back would end. Instead, their taunting only increased when I hit another growth spurt putting me at six foot, six. I’ve lost some of the muscle over the years, but my size is still intimidating.
My clothes are beyond dirty. In the desert sun, it’s best to wear white, but out on the streets, white is unforgiving. If my hulking frame doesn’t scare people away, my unkempt hair and filthy clothes and body will do the job.
Instead, I stare at her until one of her co-workers comes and envelopes her in a hug. When her pink haired friend catches me watching, she sneers, turning my Goddess around and ushers her further away into the building until I can no longer see them.
Blinking away the image of her crying form, I shake my head, trying to resist the urge to go inside, find her, and wipe away her tears.
For the first time in years, I feel I have a purpose.