The Quest Read Online Free PDF Page B

chill run down my spine and cause me to shake all over. A very creepy chill. I looked down at my nails noticing they were pretty and painted hot pink. Maybe he saw them when I snatched the wine from his little hands. Maybe I scratched him when I did. Maybe I’m worrying about nothing and he was just making odd conversation. The little man was beginning to make me question why I felt the need to be mean to him. I had to remind myself I’m really not a mean girl. He’s just weird. And he asks weird questions, weird nail fetish questions.
                  I convinced myself after the second glass of fine wine I stole off the little man, that I was actually being very nice by logging off and not responding to his weird questions. Yup after the second glass I was convinced I was quite a catch and not a mean girl after all. The new dating scene I had suddenly thrown myself into was rather earth shattering for me. I preferred to date the old fashion way, like bump into a guy on the street or a supermarket, coffee shop even. Online shopping for a man like I did my shoes was not a lot of fun. And just like my shoe shopping, they never fit right when I got them. So you can understand my frustration dealing with this little man. The guy that grazed the coffee shop wasn’t the caliber man I would find online. No, that guy was your one in a million never meet again kinda guy. Yeah, I should have stuck around and sparked up conversation with him. I was quickly thinking it was my loss for not.
                  Hindsight’s a bitch when you’re lonely. And I was definitely feeling Mr. Lonely making his presence now. The Dude literally shows up when I least expect it. Yeah, he has a right to live here. He moved in a long time ago. I just forget sometimes that he’s here until he reminds me. But trust me I don’t want to date him. He’s not at all my type.
    ***
    I t’s early spring in Providence. Winter is finally coming to an end. Everything is blooming: the trees, the flowers, the green grass, my allergies, but not my love. No, I’m without love right now. A dry spell they call it. It’s been a while. I try to keep busy and just not think about it. I’ve picked up new hobbies to help consume my time as well. I run a lot now that the weather is nice, hit the gym quite frequently, and I’ve started a painting hobby painting large cloth canvases. I’ve grown to love painting on rainy days especially. It’s a peaceful thing to do with the window open and a glass of sweet wine by my side. I don't plan what I’m going to paint; no I just let the natural artistic juices flow as if I am some famous painter or something. Oh, my paintings don't look as pretty as theirs, they kind of look artistic, lopsided sort-of, and very much loved. The kind of love only an artist’s mother would love. But it’s creative and it keeps my mind off of Mr. Lonely. He doesn’t do the painting thing very well. When I pick up the paint brush he cowardly runs away.
                  Today, I’ve made my way twice to the local coffee shop hoping to cross paths with the handsome coifed man that bought my coffee before, but no luck. I figure if I could stop by every day it would better my chances of bumping into him again. Today was not my lucky day though and the buzz from sipping two coffees was now sitting high with me. Yes, I had skipped my evening wine and went straight for the coffee latte in hopes my Prince would show up again. While stalking out the joint my fingers began to get a little shaky and a headache was appearing behind my right temple, so I gave up and trekked back home.
                  “I so got to get a life,” I scolded myself as I walked as if it mattered that anyone was around to hear me. My life stalking a coffee shop, creepy little men, living without Radley and experiencing his surprise kissing visits, life on the crazy dating websites, and the life of finding creative outlets was so