Do it yourself

“There!” Tim pointed.

“The rough without the diamond,” Robert snorted, hands shoved in the pockets of his too tight jeans.

Melissa giggled.

Tim felt his heart sink. This was exactly what he wanted. How come the others could not see?

“You’d do better in the junkyard,” Robert walked away. “He must’a hated you to leave you that”

Melissa pranced behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispered to the old car. “Mr. Evans left you here, yes, but he kept your engine in his shed. Wrapped like a present. Safe.”

“I will put you back together,” he promised. “Exactly as he’d asked.”

Photo credit: © Ted Strutz

dales-woodpile

“So, you’re averse to having daylight in the basement,” Sandra noted.

Doug raised an eyebrow.

“Or fresh air.”

“What’s air gotta do with it?” Doug blurted, annoyed at himself for taking the bait. “I made sure the window opens.”

It was Sandra’s turn to raise a brow. He hated when she did that. It left him wondering whether his face had looked as condescending.

“You mean, can open to invite all the creepy-crawlies in?”

He glanced at the woodpile. An enterprising spider was already spinning a thread over the window’s frame.

“Know what?” Doug huffed. “Next time you do the stacking.”

~~~~

Na'ama Yehuda