Pocket Full Of Change

Sheila loved Parker Grant. That much was certain. If she’d ever felt one iota of compassion for any man, it was Parker. From the first time she’d seen him, she’d known that he was her one true love.
Parker had approached her in slow motion; much the same way as the hero in the big budget action movies would. He had been well-dressed, well-mannered and smelling better than Sunday morning breakfast. He had a mojo; and he’d worked it well. Sheila had fallen for him almost immediately, and not because of his dress or anything so materialistic but because he was just so damn smooth. He was a charmer. He captivated her. He wooed her. He enveloped her in his surreal existence.
And Sheila loved it. She had come to crave it. She felt happiness when she was with him that she had never known. He made her smile for no particular reason. He made her laugh when there really was no joke. He was handsome, intelligent, charismatic and straight, totally straight. What woman wouldn’t be happy with a man like that? When they were together, she knew no worries. Life seemed to flow better; it had color and sound and smells and movement. Yes, Parker Grant was her heart.
And she was his, thought Sheila, even if he didn’t realize it. Truth was truth, and the truth was that she was the best thing to ever come into Parker’s life. She gave him stability and maturity. She completed him. She was the Ying to his Yang.
Unfortunately, as Sheila observed from outside the bedroom window, Parker seemed to be sharing his yang with someone else.