by Ari Collins
Brett droned on the whole ride home, not even checking if Amy was still listening. Where was the considerate man she'd married?
Suddenly, a Jeep swerved nearly into them. Brett's arm flew across her sternum protectively, and Amy was warmed by his instinctive thoughtfulness.
"As I was saying," Brett resumed as the jeep honked past.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Automatic
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1 comment:
I've been reading too much Hemingway. I read Brett and assumed it was a girl. Sigh.
Nice story.
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