Grace Tenderstitch gingerly picked her way up the path through her field. She wondered if she should have worn a hat, and briefly chided herself for lack of confidence. She was aware that Bennet watched her progress, aware that her feet were sweating in her good shoes and that they pinched her bunion. She was admittedly nervous and felt the hem of her slip catch irritably on a patch of leg hair that she had missed while shaving that morning. She tried hard to look like she was walking in a relaxed fashion but the heels of her shoes dug in the ground and threatened to topple her. Never the less she held her head high and made great progress, sauntering along like she was use to going to a breakfast picnic at 7:30 every morning. She would normally watch where she put her feet but today she felt like a model on a runway, albeit one that wound through a tall grassy field. Her filmy flowered dress shifted off a shoulder, and dipped down causing Grace to pause and slip it back where it belonged. She was smiling in the direction of Bennet Wimmer when the grasshopper took aim at her thigh and flipped itself inside her dress, coming to rest on her inner leg close to the place where the elastic from her underwear gathered itself in the crease of her leg.
Grace Tenderstitch leaped into the air as if she was launched by an unseen trampoline. She grabbed at her crotch, and made wild shooing gestures to get the offending creature off of her inner thigh. The raspy legs and feet of the grasshopper tickled her unmercifully and Grace let out a squeal that was with her contortions and gyrations difficult for Bennet to interpret. He smiled nervously and then chuckled hesitantly, thinking that Grace was having a bit of fun, until Grace actually fell to the ground, swatting at her lower body like it was biting her.