Saturday, March 11, 2006

Romantic Fiction

She’d been left on the shelf longer than the bean burrito in her catering truck that she parked outside the factory that made vandal proof stainless steel urinals for city parks hoping to catch a glimpse of a particular young welder named Cliff who always came out to the truck wearing his welding mask at a jaunty angle above his face, he would smile and nod hello which would cause his mask to fall down in front of his face and embarrassed he would flip it back up like a knight in shining armor flipping open the visor in his helmet but Cliff’s armor consisted of leather gloves and welder’s apron and the only thing shiny about him was the steel toecaps of his safety boots.

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