by Marie Rearden
Lil and Margie lived on a cobbled cul-de-sac, homes and hearts separated only by a glowering A-frame. The eighty-somethings baked muffins, shared memories, and showed no abnegation at the library’s book giveaways. But amity turned to enmity when Mr. Pawpaw, the erudite librarian, moved into the A-frame. Cotton balls of hair fanned his ears, and his bespectacled eyes twinkled. He was a granny’s wickedest fantasy.
Margie concocted a lovely pie. A dauntless Lil whipped up an irresistible quiche. They hobbled to Mr. Pawpaw’s door with their seductive gifts.
With candor, he smooched Margie and honked Lil’s bottom. “I love cougars!”