Who's the Blonde Stranger (on Broadway)?
Copyright© 2025 by MarkStory
Prologue
Who’s the blonde stranger
Who entered my life?
Makin’ me over
In the moonlight?
Wednesday, 10:11 PM
Courtney’s text comes through just as the check hits the table at a Nashville steakhouse. I’m out with a few colleagues from my university, one last dinner to mark the end of the week-long higher-ed conference. Dessert is gone, conversation fading, and my watch buzzes.
Hey, are you still out?
The message is simple, harmless on the surface. But it sends me back to the start of the week” to the first night I met her.
I’ve known Courtney three whole days. She’s flying solo at the conference, while my institution sent a small crew -- four of us, including me. She’s thirty-nine, twelve years younger, and fits right in from the start -- same rhythm, same humor. For the rest of the week, she tags along naturally: sessions and hallway chatter by day, neon bars and music by night.
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