Watching him was one of her favorite things to do on a Saturday afternoon. Finding him was never a problem for her. He was always down at the rickety garage working on her newest rival. Today, it was a baby blue low-bed truck. Not a new truck mind you. It was always one 0f those old, pure grit models from bygone days. Admiring his absorption in the process of determinedly repairing those old relics as truly a work of devoted art.
Moved by her love for him, she brought him a glass of cold, sweet tea. As she approached him, he stopped as if sensing her nearness and smiled like sunshine. Theirs was a love with the kind 0f freedom that is born of respect. Not some candy cane, one-night stand, kind of infatuation. There was a deep knowing that this love would last through the ages.
© Carol Campbell
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