From the short story, Loon Lake:
With each move, she paused and thought. She clenched her hands together, held them near her mouth, thinking it all over. Her moves were deliberate and concise with her nature. But I was too much for her. I chased her queen around until finally, she conceded. I gave her my number.
“Do you like milkshakes?”
“Who doesn’t like milkshakes?” I said.
“The lactose intolerant actually.”
“Oh right. How could I forget?”
“You should buy me a milkshake.” She got up and moved for the door, “Good game.”
“Wish I could say the same for you!” I joked. She looked back as she floated away, her purse slung over her shoulder, her curves rocked from one side to the other—all of her silhouetted by the light coming through the shop window. She was gone, and I looked down at my winning move on the chess board.
“Where did she learn to walk like that?”
You can read Loon Lake along with my collection of short stories, Girls, Cigarettes & Illusions on Amazon.