A leggy tale.
Her father had always told her she had great legs, and she knew then as she knew now, they were her best feature. She slowly uncrossed them in the dim light of the dance club, and sipped her warm drink, as she waited for her husband.
An impatient glimpse over her shoulder saw him still in line at the cash bar. While she waited, she once again looked at her legs. She was so proud of them. She might have been fifty with two children and a hysterectomy under her belt, but when she was out dancing she felt young again. The short dance skirt and high heels showed off her legs to perfection, and the flowing top and dim lights mask her other flaws.
The Latin beat of a rumba rose in the air, couples took to the floor. She wanted to get back out there and hoped her husband wouldn’t be much longer. She watched young girls from the local college flirt with older single men. It had been a long time since anyone but her husband had flirted with her. While she loved him, and wanted no other, she wondered what it would feel like to have another man flirt with her. Would they tell her she was beautiful that she had great legs?
She was lost in her silly fantasy when a warm hand touched her bare shoulder. Her view was obscured by a veil of flaming hair and a soft voice whispered in her ear.
“ You have magnificent legs.”
She watched in confusion as the tall leggy women smiled back at her, and allowed her partner to swing her onto the shining hardwood.
He husband chose that moment to set their drinks on the table. She hoped he couldn’t see her flushed face.
“ What was that all about?” He asked.
“ Come on.” She laughed , “ I’ll tell you while we dance. But remember now you should be careful what you wish for.”
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