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.