As a new writer, the only thing that is more exciting than composing a piece is the act of introducing a talented budding writer to our wonderful writing community. Today, I am super excited and inredibly honored have the opportunity to do just that.
The piece below was not written by me, but by someone we all know and love. While I'm not at liberty reveal the identity of the author of The Encounter, I am relatively confident you will all find out shortly. In the mean time, please enjoy this delightful piece, and leave feedback if you feel compelled to do so........
We look forward to hearing from you:-)
They say men are from Mars and women are from Venus, but that’s just not true. Men…men are from some distant, unknown, far off, never-before-conceived-of place that we can’t even begin to imagine. I’ve always known this, but a conversation with my husband the other day really drove the point home.
He shouts from the other room:
“Hey Babe, you seen my insurance card?”
“No…I’ve seen MY insurance card”
“Well, do you want to use mine? It has your info on it.”
“Sure. Where’s it at?”
“In my purse.”
“Why do you need your insurance card?”
“I have to see my doctor.”
“What about your finger?”
“It’s swollen and bruised.”
“Not too bad. See.”
He comes into the room and nonchalantly waves a mangled finger in front of my face.
“Oh my goodness! Look at it! Is it broken? Can you move it?”
“Not so much.”
“What do you mean not so much? Can you move it or not?”
He attempts to move his finger and grimaces. He never grimaces.
“Oh my God! You’re probably right! Don’t move it. Just try to keep it still. What happened?”
“I hurt it.”
“I see that! How?!”
“I fell on it last night.”
“Did you trip over something?”
“Well, how did you fall?”
“I lost my balance when I swung at the goose.”
“The goose? You swung at a goose?! What were you doing swinging at a goose?!”
“It startled me.”
“How did a goose startle you? What goose? Where were you?
“At work. I was walking alongside one of the buildings at work last night and I didn’t see it.”
“How could you not see a goose? Have you seen the wingspan on those things?
“I did last night. That’s why it startled me.”
“So tell me what happened.”
“I already told you.”
I sigh quietly.
“Okay, just tell me one more time. What exactly happened?”
He sighs loudly.
“The goose startled me so I swung at it and missed and fell on my hand.”
“Right, but what happened before that? And after that? I mean, what else? Like, what did you do? What were you thinking? You know! What happened?”
“Yeah I screamed. Not a manly scream either.
I’m laughing at this point. My husband never screams or shows any sign of fear, always calm and collected.
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“It came up behind me and poked me in the back. At first I thought somebody was maybe out there smoking a cigarette and thought it would be funny to sneak up behind me. Then I turned around and saw it.”
“And I shined my light in its eyes. It was right there in my face. I didn’t know WHAT it was!”
“Then I screamed and swung.”
I’m laughing hysterically at this point.
“Oh my God! You were attacked. I can’t believe you were attacked…by a goose. What happened then?”
“Well, somehow the goose was able to duck…”
“The goose ducked?”
“Yeah…or something like that. Anyway, I swung at it and got off balance. I messed up my finger pretty good. It got jammed under me when I fell.”
He gestures toward his mangled finger. I stop laughing.
“Wow! I can’t believe you’re not making a big deal of this. Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked what happened?”
“I don’t know…maybe…probably if I had thought of it.”
“That’s so interesting.”
“You are. I just don’t get it!”
“Where’s your purse? I need my insurance card.”