Writing Challenge #2. Based on my Book

For those of you who aren't familiar with my Book Special Times, Special Summers, which is now a 99 cent read at Amazon Kindle Store, this was a POV change from the book.  But it's based on the book, with some parts unchanged (The dialog, mainly)
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Some people described fireworks; the song declared “A kiss is just a kiss.” Mike was about to find out what reality was.

In her cold, white glory, the moon had begun her ascent into the darkening sky. Mike stood with Diane near the door. The conversation had been awkward and had just now ceased. There was really nothing left to say but good night. But Mike noted that Diane’s lips quivered, just a little. She was waiting.

Mike could no longer resist. He pulled Diane close, and he felt her body tremble. Or was it his body that trembled? He gazed longingly into the blue eyes and his eyes fluttered closed as he cautiously and uncertainly touched his lips to hers.

The song was wrong. And there were no fireworks: just a glorious darkness and warmth like a blanket. Mike realized that his hug was being returned, and he was practically suffocating in Diane’s embrace

.They mutually loosened their holds, and Mike opened his mouth to speak, but Diane spoke first: “Don’t disturb the moment, Mike. It’s just us out here. It’s just us.,” she said, oblivious to the sound of the passing freeway traffic. Then, she kissed him again – with a tenderness unexpected. Mike melted into her arms once again.

Twenty-five years later, Mike would remember everything, every word spoken. Sadly, Diane would not remember a thing.

No, no fireworks. Not just a kiss. But what would become a bittersweet memory.

Short story. It was a writing challenge

Sam stood on the beach of the treasure /coast/ shortly before /sunrise/. How he got there was a bit of a mystery to him, since his home was nearly 30 miles away and his work 12. He stared out over the smooth expanse of water upon which an occasional /bubble/ from a fish, or perhaps methane jet, appeared.

Sam had /lost/ his job the day before following a /conflict/ with his boss, who was a regular /churl./ Sam had called him a cultureless neanderthal. It was true enough. His boss's lack of /passion/ for this job rankled Sam.

Sam left in a huff, but didn't take his car; he wanted a clear head when driving. But it grew dark, and he had become disoriented, confused as to his location. He found himself limping along as deserted highway. Clouds had rolled in; he had been unable to get his location from the stars.

He walked to the water's edge, and after a brief moment of /indecision/ removed his shoes to /rinse/ and cool his aching feet.

It wasn't long before he heard a pitiful mewing behind him. He turned to find a black /cat/, pure black, with a single /pearl/ on its collar. It ran off and returned several times, as if asking Sam to follow. Sam got the message, picked up his shoes, and followed. Behind a dune that was 500 yards farther down the beach, he found a dark man waiting. The man stared at Sam until he became uncomfortable with the silence. But the cat continued its mewing, as if in /despair/.

"Are you all right?" asked Sam. But the dark man continued to stare at Sam, and made no comment.

Confused, Sam changed his question. "Is there something you want?"

The dark man nodded slowly, but didn't speak.

Sam decided to ask one more question. "And that is?"

The dark man spoke with a voice that seemed to originate from a bottomless pit, and he said only two words. "Your soul."