The car stalled, then shut off.  I drifted to the shoulder.  I whispered a prayer as I turned the key.  The engine whined but wouldn’t turn over.

A car pulled up in front of me.  A tall man climbed out.  He began to approach.  I hit the door locks.  My heart pounded.  The sun was setting but he still wore sunglasses.  I couldn’t see his eyes.

I could almost hear the gravel crunching under his feet.  His upper body was well defined in his black t-shirt.  Should I crack my window a bit?

Then he was there, right outside my car door.  He looked at me through the window.  I held up my cell phone.  “I’ll be okay.  I’ve called someone,” I said.

“Well, if you pop the hood, I’d be happy to take a look.”  He smiled, exposing deep dimples.  He took off his sunglasses.  I looked into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

Why do I have to live in a world where I have to be so vigilant?

I smiled, tore my eyes from his and popped the hood.