The Field 27

by Glenn Gillis
(Lévis)

Original Text: The Field 27


Her back was wet with sweat. The sweat tickled down her armpits and between her breasts. Feeling uncomfortable, she had the urge to take off her T-Shirt and ride around only in her bra. The thought made her chuckle. There was a cool breeze playing through her long blond hair.
She was happy it was Saturday for she didn’t work Saturdays. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her job at the ice-cream stand; it was her horny old boss always looking at her as if she was made of ice cream. She new that the old bugger would just love to get his hands on her and that’s what she hated about the job.
As she rode, she noticed a tennis court up ahead. The lights went on as she approached. A young couple was getting ready to play. Large willow and pin Cherrie trees filled the park that surrounded the tennis court. She gazed up at the bright high lampposts and as she did so, a faint memory consumed her. Memory flashes were coming and going. A heavy mist of fog and a strange humming sound. A language she could not understand. And then it left just as fast as it came. Without knowing it, she was pedaling much faster. Her adrenalin was rising. As she came back to her senses, she realized she was on another street going down hill. Confused, she stopped, looked around wondering what had happened.

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Revised Text:


Her back was wet with sweat, and it trickled down her armpits and between her breasts. Feeling uncomfortable, she had the urge to take off her T-Shirt and ride around only in her bra. The thought made her chuckle. There was a cool breeze playing through her long blond hair.

She was happy it was Saturday because she didn’t work Saturdays. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her job at the ice-cream stand, it was her horny old boss always looking at her as if she was made of ice cream. She new that the old bugger would just love to get his hands on her and that’s what she hated about the job.

As she rode, she noticed a tennis court up ahead, and the lights went on as she approached. A young couple was getting ready to play. Large willow and pin cherry trees filled the park that surrounded the tennis court.

She gazed up at the bright, high lampposts, and as she did, a faint memory consumed her. Memory flashes were coming and going. A heavy mist of fog and a strange humming sound. A language she could not understand. Then it left just as fast as it had come.

Without knowing it, she was pedaling much faster. Her adrenalin was rising. As she came back to her senses, she realized she was on another street going downhill. Confused, she stopped and looked around, wondering what had happened.


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