Free Double Blind by D. P. Lyle

himself behind a boulder near the top of the cascade before she wandered into the clearing. She had not seen him, but from his vantage point, he possessed a clear view of her, and even a hundred or so feet away, he could smell the aroma of the marijuana. He watched as she took several long drags, holding each for a time before exhaling the pale smoke skyward. She then licked a thumb and forefinger, pinched the glow from the roach, and dropped it on the ground next to her. She leaned back against the tree, adjusted her headphones, and closed her eyes.
    He couldn’t remember ever having seen her before. And had he, he would definitely remember. She was beautiful, trim, with long legs. Strange, colorful clips tipped what appeared to be half a dozen short pigtails, which sprouted in no discernible pattern from her short jet-black hair. Her head bobbed slightly in time with whatever music she listened to.
    He swept his unruly beard aside and rested his chin on one thick forearm. He imagined them sitting together beneath the tree, talking, laughing, holding hands, kissing, making love. He imagined that they were in love, had a life, a future together.
    He knew none of it was true. None of it could ever be true. Not after what he had done.
    Judging from the angle of the shadows, it was well after five and he had things to do before darkness arrived in a couple of hours. He took one last look at her, storing her image in his mind, and picked up his backpack, now stuffed with refilled water bottles.
    Before he could take a step, he saw her yank off the headphones and stand. He ducked. Had she seen him? He held his breath and listened for her scream or the patter of her running feet, but all he heard was the sound of the water rushing over the rocks.
    He carefully peered around the boulder. She stood facing the pool as if studying it. She slipped off her shirt and unhooked her bra, dropping both to the ground behind her. She stepped out of her shorts and then her black bikini panties.
    His heart fluttered in his chest. She was incredible. Her skin had been lightly toasted by the sun. Her breasts were small, firm with erect nipples, and her long legs joined at a soft brown triangle. A colorful tattoo circled her navel.
    She stepped into the water, ankle deep, knee deep, shivering, arms wrapped across her chest, and hesitated as if the coldness would drive her back to shore. With a soft squeal, she stretched out on the water and gracefully stroked to the middle of the pool. Rolling to her back, she kicked to the other side, where she turned and backstroked across the pool once again.
    He leaned on the boulder, transfixed, watching her every move. Her long, lean body glided back and forth, and then she stood beneath a small cascade, letting the water flow over her head and breasts. Finally, she climbed out of the water, shivering, and dried herself with a towel she pulled from her backpack. She dressed and then relit the joint. After taking two long hits, she flicked the remnant into the water and reseated the headphones. She snatched up her backpack, stuffed the towel inside, and disappeared through the trees.
    He waited, listening, hoping she would return. She didn’t. Finally, he trudged up the slope, turned eastward, and followed a trail that led deeper into the forest.
    *
    After discussing the men in and out of their lives, Sam and Alyss turned to other topics--books, movies, clothes, food, and old memories. Sam heard Shelby’s footsteps before she rounded the corner of the porch and climbed the steps.
    Alyss looked up. “Your hair’s wet. What happened?”
    “Nothing. I went for a swim.”
    Concern knitted Alyss’ brow. “Where?”
    “There’s a neat pond about a half mile from here. Up in the trees.”
    “I thought I told you not to wonder too far.”
    “A half mile? That’s far? Besides, nobody knows about this place.”
    “How do you know?”
    “It’s not exactly on the beaten path.”
    Alyss sighed. “Go dry your