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She (standard:romance, 1483 words)
Author: Derek HeathAdded: Apr 15 2004Views/Reads: 3666/2401Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man's first love - but he loses her...
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

be with her all the time. 

Their first time out together, he drove them out to a pub in the
country. It was another beautiful day, much like the day he'd first 
seen her. The sky was a cloudless, deep, azure blue and the golden sun 
was beating down through the open sunroof. As he hoped, the pub was 
pretty busy, and he saw plenty of people look at the two of them, as he 
drove slowly through the car park and nosed the car into a vacant 
space. He went into the bar, while she sat outside, basking in the warm 
sun. 

The barman had seen him leave her. 'You're a very lucky man,' he said as
he was serving. 'My first was very much like that.' 

'You wouldn't believe how many people have said that!' 

'You know, I wish I'd never let her go really,' remarked the barman,
wistfully. 

'A lot of people have said that too!' 

With that, he paid and went back outside, to see that she was attracting
approving glances from a couple of lads, who looked no more than 
fourteen or so, young enough to be his sons. They stayed for a couple 
of hours. He could tell that people were looking but trying not to 
look, and he was sure that some of the men there wished that she was 
theirs. 

For two wonderful years, it was like that. If he was down, she cheered
him up. No matter what was on his mind or weighing on his shoulders, 
just ten minutes with her, the two of them alone, with some music on 
the radio, and all was right with the world. They went everywhere 
together. They still attended the events that she had appeared at 
before, and whenever they did, people admired them together, and he 
knew that men wanted her, some had even told him so, but she'd always 
come home with him. 

And to now. And it was all over. She had been taken from him. He had
been at work, and he had left at his normal time to meet her. She was 
always there, had been every day for the time they had been together, 
and always in the same spot. On this particular Thursday, it was 
raining heavily and his day had started badly and got steadily worse, 
so he really couldn't wait to see her. They were going to go out 
tonight and he knew, that just by seeing her, he would instantly feel 
like the luckiest man on Earth. He turned the corner and she wasn't 
there. He was shocked. She had to be there. He did a double-take. He 
looked up and down the street, frantically searching, hoping to catch a 
glimpse of her, but he couldn't see any clue. Where was she? He was 
rooted to the spot now, for what seemed an age, but was probably only 
seconds. One of his colleagues came past. 

'Are you OK?' 

'She's not here. She's always here. Why isn't she here?' 

'Where is she?' His colleague knew how much she meant to him. Sometimes,
it seemed that she was his only topic of conversation, and it would 
destroy him if he'd lost her forever. 

'I don't know. She should be here...' 

'Come on, we'll hunt around. I'll get my car.' 

'Yeah. Yeah, thanks,' he muttered, distractedly. His colleague ran up
the road and a couple of minutes later, returned with his car. They 
drove around for two or three hours, searching everywhere they could 
think of. There was no sign of her. 

'I think we should go to the police,' his colleague said. 

'Maybe you're right. Maybe they've seen her, or someone else has and
told them.' 

The policeman on the desk took a form out of a tray and picked up his
biro. 

'OK', he said. 'Let's take some details.' 

'She's a 1966 Rover P6 2000TC, in Zircon blue, with a parchment leather
interior, wire wheels and a full-length sunroof. I left her there just 
before 8.30 this morning and went in to work...' 


   


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