Catches connie

Guys, come on. It’s Shakespeare. It needs to be understood in its original context, and an over-seven-foot guy spouting Hero’s lines in an awkward falsetto is historically accurate, probably, though I always preferred Benedic and Beatrice’s scenes. I was just getting to the masked ball when the front door opened, and Connie’s excited voice called out, “Irwin!”
I lowered the finger I’d been holding across my mouth to simulate the Prince’s moustache, nudged the coffee table a little bit aside with one foot, set the book down, and turned in time to receive Connie’s hug. She leapt from about six feet out, and I caught her so that she could wrap her arms and legs around me. She smelled like sunshine and freshly cut grass, and she was all lightly tanned limbs and breathless excitement as she kissed me.

Microfiction #4, Job Placement