From: IO11283@MAINE.MAINE.EDU
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
Subject: RFA Application- a start
Date: 26 Jan 93 18:00:09 GMT
Organization: University of Maine System


Dear Prez Julie- Here's a start on a story for my official RFA application.  I
wanted to see if this will fit the guidelines.  ShalL I continue with this one,
 or start with something else.

Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
I don't know what the ALL CAPS problem is- everything was fine, and then it sta
rted on me in spite of my efforts.

 -Jennifer, who hopes this seems romantic to you (collective).

The buzz of the clockradio's alarm invaded his dreams like martians, jolting Ha
rrison to his senses.  As the sleepiness faded from his eyes, he saw the rumple
d covers, the heap of clothes in the corner, and that blaring red LED. 7:00. Gl
ancing at the frosty window as he made his way to the shower, Harrison shivered
 at the thought of the morning routine- scraping the windshield, walking across
 windswept parking lots, and trudging over ice and snow to the lab.

After pulling on his favorite flannel shirt and jeans, grabbing hat, scarf, and
 gloves, Harrison reached for his blue parka.  Picking up the canvas briefcase
AND KEYS, HE OPENNED THE DOOR TO THE ENTRYWAY. THERE ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF H
im was a pot of violets, cheerfully blooming up at him- a smiling gesture of sp
ring through the January chills.  There was no card, no markings on the pot, ju
st a thick insulating plastic wrapping.  He scooped up the pot, which was still
 warm to the touch, and went out to warm up the car, carefully placing the viol
ets on the passenger seat.  As he scraped the ice from the windshield, Harrison
 watched his breath form puffy clouds in the cold morning air.  The violets had
n't been there long, and yet, how would they have gotten there?

HARRISON'S DAY WAS NOT AS USUAL-  HE FOUND HIS EYES CONTINUALLY WANDERING TO TH
EPOT OF VIOLETS, WHICH HE PLACED ON HIS DESK.  HAD HE EVER RECEIVED FLOWERS BEF
ORE? HE THOUGHT,  NO, THOUGH HE'D GIVEN QUITE A FEW.  MANY OF THE WOMEN IN THE
LAB HAD STARTED QUESTIONING HIM- FLOWERS ON HIS DESK?  WHAT WAS THE OCCASSION?
 WERE THEY FOR A NEW LOVE INTEREST? WAS IT HIS BIRTHDAY? WHY DID HE ALL OF A SU
DDEN HAVE THIS SWEET BUNCH OF BLOSSOMS AMIDST HIS PAPERS AND PERIPHERALS?  HARR
ISON BLUSHED AND SMILED AND HONESTLY SAID HE DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THEY CAME FROM.
 THE TITTERING AND TEASING CONTINUED THROUGH MOST OF THE MORNING AS THEY ALL WE
NT ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS.

HARRISON TRIED TO ACT NORMALLY, BUT AS THE WEEK WENT ON, HE AWOKE TO MORE FLOWE
RS- A POTTED PEONY IN FULL PINK BLOOM, FOLLOWED THE NEXT DAY BY YELLOW MUMS, AN
D THE NEXT DAY, A TALL WHITE LILY.  SLIGHTLY OVERWHELMED, HARRISON KEPT THESE F
LOWERS AT HOME, FEARING THE STATIC HE'D RECEIVE IF HIS DESK BECAME AN ARBORETUM
.  HE STILL KEPT THE VIOLETS THERE, THOUGH, WONDERING ABOUT THEIR SOURCE.

ON FRIDAY MORNING, HARRISON SENSED SOMETHING DIFFERENT WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR-
 HIS FLOWERS WERE WRAPPED IN PAPER, AND THERE WAS AN ENVELOPE ATTACHED!
UNWRAPPING THE PAPER, HE SAW HIS FIRST CUT FLOWERS- ROSES- ONE RED, ONE YELLOW,
 ONE PINK, AND ONE WHITE.  HE TORE OPEN THE ENVELOPE, RELEASING A SMALL CLOUD O
F A SPICY FLORAL PERFUME.  THE PLAIN WHITE CARD HELD A SMALL MESSAGE.  THE LOOP
Y, GRACEFUL HANDWRITING ASKED:

"WOULD YOU PLEASE HAVE LUNCH WITH ME ON MONDAY? 1:00PM AT CHEZ GAELLE.
 YOUR ADMIRER,  SVETLANA."