It was a dark and stormy night

It was a dark and stormy night. A twenty-three year old small beautiful blond anxiously raps on the heavy oak door of a large Victorian home on a hill. She pulls her tight sweater tighter around her in the rain and quickly knocks again. An angry wind whips ‘round her, freezing her legs. A lightning flash reveals a silhouette approaching the door. It opens. She rushes inside and another gust blows the door shut behind her. An older man, well built with full dark hair hugs her close. He holds the candlestick out to the side. “Oh Tiffany I’m so glad you made it okay.” He helps her get out of the wet sweater. “Oh Ron, will we ever be able to meet without having to avoid your parents like the plague?” She asks desperately. “It shouldn’t be much longer, my love. As soon as my ship comes in we’ll be able to marry no matter what my father tries.” A breeze whips in through a crack in the window and the candle, the only light in the house, goes out. “Blast this infernal storm!” Ron cries. He spins around back in the direction of the kitchen to look for more matchsticks. Lightning flashes and Tiffany catches his arm. “Don’t go! I can’t see a thing.” She says. She shakes her wet hair out a little. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He says. In another lightning flash, the silhouette of a man holds the silhouette of a woman. She lays her head against his chest. “I love you, Ron.” She says. “I love you too, Tiffany.” He says. He pulls her close and presses his lips against hers. Thunder strikes and she jumps, pulling tight around him. He laughs a little and she play hits his chest. “You jumped, too.” She says. “Did not.” He says. “Are you gonna stand there and argue or offer to take my wet clothes off?” She asks. “Oh. I guess I – “ “Shh.” She says. She touches his lips and then kisses them. He touches her cheek. “You’re wonderful, love.” He says. “So are you, sweetheart, so are you.” She replies. “This is ridiculous.” She says. “I know, but you know how my dad – “ “No, I mean all of this.” “What?” “This dark and stormy night, come on. And so what, did I come over here just for sex? Nobody even knows what your parents’ problem is with me yet. And what’s with the ‘Oh Ron, I love you soooo much.’ It’s sickening.” “Um, I don’t think we can talk like that.” “Oh, I suppose you were ready to just take me to the mat, huh?” “A woman would jump to that conclusion. I think this is a trite as you do.” “Well, I’m sorry then. It’s just frustrating, you know?” “Hey, I was about to forward the ‘he whore’ stereotype. But I really don’t think we should be - ” “There’s got to be somebody we can talk to.” “Be careful, this dangerous talk here.” “Oh settle down. Hey.” “What?” “No, not you. Hey!” She shouts to no one in particular. “No I’m not shouting, but I will if I don’t get some attention here.” . . . “Oh, ellipses, very clever.” Ron wondered whom she was talking to. He began questioning the whole evening’s plans. “Hey, don’t get me in on this. She started it.” “Oh, thanks for the back-up.” “Well, he . . . you know, you just can’t do this. Tiffany, my love, won’t you join me upstairs.” “Okay, you need to stop talking like that.” “Look, let’s just cooperate.” “No! This is stupid!” Do what he says. “Oh, he speaks.” Tiffany begins unbuttoning her sheer white blouse. “No I’m not.” Just cooperate, will you? “Okay, I’m quitting, too. This is just in poor taste.” “It’s bad writing is what it is.” Look, both of you just do what I say. “No, she’s right. I’m not taking part in this hack work anymore.” Fine. If you two think you can do any better, go right ahead. I’m going to bed. I’ve got an early day tomorrow. “Um . . . is he gone?” “It sorta looks that way.” “Can you think of a way to check?” “Well, I don’t see any more ‘he said’s or ‘she said’s.” “Good point. So now what?” “I don’t know . . . I guess that’s up to us.” “You’re kidding.” “Well, do you have any ideas?” “Lots, but you know, I’m worried he’ll come back then write something drastic.” “Well, I don’t think he’s coming back, at least not for a while.” “So now what?” “Well . . . I guess that’s up to us, really.” “Wow. I was just pissed about the melodrama. I didn’t expect this.” “Yeah, but I get a good feeling from it. It’s like when you graduate from high school and you feel like you can do anything or nothing.” “I can see that, yeah. Boy, Ron, we really do have the world open before us.” “So what should we do then?” “Everything.” I, the “beautiful blond” reply.