Here is a piece of "Red Truck." Again, not married to the title. Consider this the bumper. With my wedding coming up quickly (just over a week now) writing has taken a bit of a back seat. Enjoy and let me know what you thought of the ride.
The day the red truck arrived I was too tired to care. I had been at work, unloading new reams of fabric since 8 a.m. Two customers forced me to waste a total of thirty feet of cloth because they couldn’t make up their minds. The blonde girl said she was student at the nearby design school. I know more about fabric than she ever will. All in all it wasn’t too bad; Jay came in.
The next morning I awoke to the smell of coffee wafting into my bedroom. Sometimes I imagine waking to find a man, shirtless and in pajama pants, in the kitchen pouring a hot cup and saying, “I was just about to bring this to you.” But really I had set the pot’s timer for 6:30 a.m. I poured a cup for myself, topped it off with heavy cream and sat in front of the television for my morning dose of news. The weatherman promised snow for my area starting that night; it could total ten inches over the next couple of days, he said.
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