would it take before he had the same dull, hopeless-looking eyes, and slumped shoulders? Somehow, the thought was unbearable.
Time to see if the homeless had arrived at the stone bench. When Matt reached it, there were several ragged men sitting on it. As he approached, they stared at him suspiciously.
“Howdy,” Matt said. “I’ve just arrived in Boulder. Name’s Matt. How’s the living here?”
“It’s okay,” one volunteered. “Better than most places you’ll find these days. They have a pretty good shelter up off North Broadway where we spend the night, but we have to leave in the morning, so we always head down here. Plenty of places to lounge around on by the Creek Path. There’s a park in the next block and the lawn in front of the library.”
Matt retrieved his sleeping bag from behind the stone bench. “Well, as long as the weather’s nice, I think I’ll find a place to roll out my sleeping bag at night. I’m starting to hate confined spaces.”
They offered him a seat on the stone bench, but he told them he preferred to stand. Matt listened while the group talked, exchanging stories and discussing the latest news.
“Did you hear they found another dead body?” one of them asked him.
“Dead body?” Matt raised questioning eyebrows. He knew he shouldn’t act as though he knew the latest news, having just arrived in Boulder.
“Yeah, seems a serial killer is now operating in town. So far he’s raped and killed three University girls. They just found the third one a couple of nights ago.
“Yeah,” another said, “their bodies have all been found in the same place. Up by the library. We heard on the news this morning before we left the shelter that the police don’t have any clues. The University is really putting on the pressure, hoping for an arrest.”
“I hope they apprehend him before he kills another one,” Matt said.
The conversation soon turned to other topics. Standing at the end of the bench, Matt wondered how hard it was going to be to pass the time for the next two weeks. He had better think up a story to tell or they might become suspicious.
“Good morning,” a cheerful voice called out.
Matt raised his head to see a slim figure dismount from a bike in front of them. Long blond hair hung below her helmet. Something about her caught his attention and he couldn’t help but stare. Her blue eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, stared back at him.
He didn’t know how long their gazes held, but the strangest feeling spread throughout his body. A warm glow, unlike anything he had ever experienced. The heat became intense and his heart began to pound.
She turned away from him as the signal light gave her the ‘walk.’ He watched her as she pushed her bike across the street, and disappeared behind some buildings.
“Who was that?” he asked the men.
“Don’t know,” one said, “but she comes by here almost every morning. Must be on her way to work. Always says ‘good morning.’”
Matt knew he had to see her again.
You can bet I’ll be here every morning.
Amanda had the strangest feeling she should turn around and have another look. See the man one more time before the experience of living homeless changed those amazing eyes.
What’s the matter with me?
There was no way that she, Amanda Barton, daughter of Michael and Olivia Barton, two professors at the University, and owner of a thriving business, could in anyway be attracted to a homeless man. She had always been used to living the good life. She had married well, even if her marriage had ended in divorce a year later. Now she was twenty-eight and this was the first time in five years she had been remotely attracted to a man.
What was there about him that in spite of shaggy hair and dirty clothes, she had noticed him? If any of her friends ever found out a homeless man appealed to her, she would die of embarrassment.
As she turned into the alley in order to go to the back entrance of Creations For
Time to see if the homeless had arrived at the stone bench. When Matt reached it, there were several ragged men sitting on it. As he approached, they stared at him suspiciously.
“Howdy,” Matt said. “I’ve just arrived in Boulder. Name’s Matt. How’s the living here?”
“It’s okay,” one volunteered. “Better than most places you’ll find these days. They have a pretty good shelter up off North Broadway where we spend the night, but we have to leave in the morning, so we always head down here. Plenty of places to lounge around on by the Creek Path. There’s a park in the next block and the lawn in front of the library.”
Matt retrieved his sleeping bag from behind the stone bench. “Well, as long as the weather’s nice, I think I’ll find a place to roll out my sleeping bag at night. I’m starting to hate confined spaces.”
They offered him a seat on the stone bench, but he told them he preferred to stand. Matt listened while the group talked, exchanging stories and discussing the latest news.
“Did you hear they found another dead body?” one of them asked him.
“Dead body?” Matt raised questioning eyebrows. He knew he shouldn’t act as though he knew the latest news, having just arrived in Boulder.
“Yeah, seems a serial killer is now operating in town. So far he’s raped and killed three University girls. They just found the third one a couple of nights ago.
“Yeah,” another said, “their bodies have all been found in the same place. Up by the library. We heard on the news this morning before we left the shelter that the police don’t have any clues. The University is really putting on the pressure, hoping for an arrest.”
“I hope they apprehend him before he kills another one,” Matt said.
The conversation soon turned to other topics. Standing at the end of the bench, Matt wondered how hard it was going to be to pass the time for the next two weeks. He had better think up a story to tell or they might become suspicious.
“Good morning,” a cheerful voice called out.
Matt raised his head to see a slim figure dismount from a bike in front of them. Long blond hair hung below her helmet. Something about her caught his attention and he couldn’t help but stare. Her blue eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, stared back at him.
He didn’t know how long their gazes held, but the strangest feeling spread throughout his body. A warm glow, unlike anything he had ever experienced. The heat became intense and his heart began to pound.
She turned away from him as the signal light gave her the ‘walk.’ He watched her as she pushed her bike across the street, and disappeared behind some buildings.
“Who was that?” he asked the men.
“Don’t know,” one said, “but she comes by here almost every morning. Must be on her way to work. Always says ‘good morning.’”
Matt knew he had to see her again.
You can bet I’ll be here every morning.
Amanda had the strangest feeling she should turn around and have another look. See the man one more time before the experience of living homeless changed those amazing eyes.
What’s the matter with me?
There was no way that she, Amanda Barton, daughter of Michael and Olivia Barton, two professors at the University, and owner of a thriving business, could in anyway be attracted to a homeless man. She had always been used to living the good life. She had married well, even if her marriage had ended in divorce a year later. Now she was twenty-eight and this was the first time in five years she had been remotely attracted to a man.
What was there about him that in spite of shaggy hair and dirty clothes, she had noticed him? If any of her friends ever found out a homeless man appealed to her, she would die of embarrassment.
As she turned into the alley in order to go to the back entrance of Creations For
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