Feminine Fragrance

What captures a man's imagination when his gaze falls on a woman? Perhaps it’s the color of her eyes, the shape of her hips, the sway of her breasts revealed by a thin cotton dress. Perhaps it’s the haunting mystery about her, the prospect of what may come to pass. For Hodge it was all of these things, but most of all it was her captivating fragrance.

He had parachuted behind German lines with some three dozen men along the coast of Normandy on the night of the invasion, into the throes of unexpected machine gun fire. Lost, frightened beyond belief, he ran for three days wondering if he would ever again meet up with his unit, wondering if he would survive.

Hungry, in need of rest, he came upon a remote farm house. Inside, the woman in the next room heard him crawl through the window. She stood waiting in the kitchen, clutching a knife. When he entered the kitchen, her short lived attack ended with her lying on the floor, cowering before him as he struggled to figure out what to do next.

What was to become of him now? Would she give him food, allow him a few hours sleep, or would she wait for the first opportunity to try to kill him again?