That Day

By Krystyna Fedosejevs

Gwendolyn left her apartment, headed downtown. An ordinary workday, she thought, nothing exciting.

Down one block, cross street, another five blocks, office building at corner. Midway, she tripped. Fell. Blood showed where her knees had scraped. A vehicle roared by, then backed up.

“Need help?” a man lassoed her with his sexy voice. Drew her to his all-wheel drive.

“No thanks,” her inner voice said. “Yes, thank you,” she sparkled out loud. “I’m late for work.”

Twenty years later she was still his preferred rider, having tied a love knot in the rope that had first pulled her into his life.