He Called Her Mister

One of these days Sam Swanson, I am going to write a book and tell every body just how mean you are." I screamed.

Arrogantly he smiled "Go ahead Mister. Nobody will believe it anyway much less read it."

I bought myself a note pad and pen. I sat down and began to write. The more I wrote, the more cockier Sam became.

He would like it, of course. The first few chapters was a fairy tale, and he was the knight in shining armor.

"What are you gona call your book?" He ask  as he skimed through the first few pages that I had written.

"He called her Mister." I replied.

It was a quaint little motel on the main street in Gatlinburg. There were several buildings build  across the creek. The water rippling across the rocks and the chill in the air went together perfectly. Each building had it's own name. The name above our entrance read "Honeymooners."

What a beautiful thought, but never in my wildest imagination.