The morning fog had started to build up around her flattened breast, you could begin to see the droplets form, as the morning sun drove the fog back, the dew reflected off her skin, like an ice cold coke bottle in the dead summer. Laid out like a pinup on the side of WWII bomber, her smile would be welcome enough, to any returning G.I. But he was no G.I. and she no Betty Page but there she was laid out. For him like a gift he assumed, the leaves and brush around her had been cleared away as to prevent any unwanted impurities to ruin this scene. Her skin was as white as milk, only the disappearing shadows allowed him to fully grasp the features of her silhouette, her body ample and curvaceous, he could not help bob and weave his own head as his eyes rolled over her top to bottom.
He noticed that he was licking his lip excessively, squatting down as though to lift something heavy. He kept his back straight as he rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his thighs locking and locking his own fingers as if he could rub the tackiness from his skin. He began to get that emptying feeling in his stomach, he noticed his breathing pattern had changed from what one would consider normal to a slower, deeper and more conscious of the breaths he took. He was arose and he sickly knew it, instantly he began to thumb his left ring finger, for reassurance. He popped back up looking around as if to see if anyone had noticed. He had been standing there watching her, for what he felt was an eternity, only a few times was he able to catch her intoxicating fragrance as it mixed with the smells of spring, he brought his handkerchief to his face as if that could try to stop her from creeping in through his nose and mouth afraid that her smell alone would seal his own fate. He forced a cough as to expel her from within, he couldn't help it.
The grass was lush and vibrant from the seasons rains, it only helped to accent the auburn streaks that faded in and out of her hair. She was a women well kept and trimmed. Nothing on her body was by mere chance, much thought was put into everything about her; from the red French tips, the matching eye shadow, her lips to big for her mouth were oddly painted black, her jaw and cheek bones soft but noticeable, protruded over the red silk bow she had around her neck, the look of young innocence, long stolen. Her eyes gave no clue as to a possible future only pain and suffering like spray painted windows on an abandoned home they read "Vacant" all the trinkets in the world could not buy her salvation. But their they were all lined her gold watch, lay there the ticking of its hands buried by the sounds of birds and insects, a gold chain with a small book shaped locket held a picture of a small boy, another smaller chain held her saviors mark, though battered and tinged she had rubbed his face off, next to them lay two gold rings the words mom and daughter scribed on them.
Stepping back he caught sight of his partner breaking through trees, he reached out to him receiving a cup of lukewarm coffee. "What the hell" he said, his partner glanced back raised eye brow and all, "The nearest Starbucks is 20 minutes away, you told me to bring you coffee, I brought you coffee" he said, "is it our boy?" he asked "its him" " you sure" his partner nudged from behind "oh yeah, red bow and all"