Random Impulse: Week 11-1

This is the assignment I wrote in class this past Wednesday. 

I could see him walking in my direction. He looked scraggy and worn out. His pointed beard made me want to run the other way, but I remembered my father’s words, “He’s a good man.” As much as I hated to agree with my father, I could see kindness in his smile. I could feel his gaze; he was looking straight at me. I could see a lonesome past through his eyes. I knew he would be different. I had been used, numerous times, as long as I can remember. I had always been a fool when it came to love, but I could sense it would be different this time. I knew he would be the fool this time around. After all, he had come to my father, the so called matchmaker, to find himself a wife. Now would anyone normal ever do that? If he wanted a wife, I’ll give him a wife. I will play him like a viola. He approached me and handed me the flowers he was carrying. As I reached out to accept them, I could feel the goose bumps on his arms. I knew I could have him under my control, but my father’s words kept playing in my mind, “He’s a good man.”