Once upon a car journey back from the City of Glass, somewhere south of the Great Lakes, Gorgeous was pondering. What could Sexy buy her for Christmas?
Sexy earned a meagre living rescuing helpless motorists from their folly. It was hard work occasionally appreciated by the few and he had little money to spare. Had this been an old fashioned fairy tale, his armour would surely be as rusted and worn as the faded orange high vis jacket worn by knights of the road today. In all weathers, fair or foul, did the gallant Sexy travail from A-roads to B and motorway. He pulled cars from damp ditches, unfroze locks, jump started flat batteries, changed wheels, and cursed the top spec German motors for their shite electrics.
He missed the days when he stood tall for Queen and country, driving and commanding tanks in distant lands. Yet he loved his job, for he enjoyed nothing more than getting people out of fixes and seeing them safely home.
And this is how he met Gorgeous.
Gorgeous, although now five minutes past her youthful best, still had quite a bit going for her. She was intelligent, a student of words and the arts yet also worked as a chef at the Purple Palace. Leaving work one night, she found her beautiful minibus to have a flat tyre. So she did what all modern day, right thinking people do. She called out breakdown recovery. Sexy did not laugh at the corroded bodywork, nor ‘help’ graffitied on the back doors. It was a heap but neither of them saw the rusty bucket the blue transit van really was, but a means to an end: a lifestyle option for someone who liked outdoors, dogs and muddy boots.
On the way home, Gorgeous and Sexy chatted about everything that mattered, from internet dating to life as a mature student, army life and small villages in the heart of the National Forest.
Gorgeous quite liked the look of Sexy, so hid her email address on his job sheet. Thus a simple lift and shift job grew to romance and the ultimate challenge.
Although many suitors had come her way, some princes from foreign lands, others humble tradesmen, none could give Gorgeous what she most desired. Not one of them could conquer the greatest challenge of all for none were worthy.
And that is how it came, on the journey back from the City of Glass, that Gorgeous laid out her challenge.
On a scrap of paper, she wrote:
Herein lies my wish for Christmas.
No-one has ever given me the key to their heart.
I would like a key to your house,
Which is the key to your heart.
But only if you take back the one you gave to Ex.
That way I will know your sincerity,
For it is important to know you have
No keys to the heart of another
Nor they to you.
And in this way
You will win the key to my own heart
And it will be yours to keep for as long as love lives between us.
Chapter two
It was Christmas day and Gorgeous drove the miles from her house to see Sexy and discover whether or not he had taken up the challenge. Would he really be the brave one, strong enough to accept and fulfil the wish that she held so dear?
The day was long and full of seasonal merriment. Sexy held court to guests and made welcome all who came to his door. So flowed much wine and all were in good spirits. All, that is, except Gorgeous, who wound anxiety beneath her benevolent smile as gift after gift was unwrapped.
One by one, the guests either left or retired to bed. Gorgeous was still waiting. As Christmas Day came to an end, Sexy took the hands of Gorgeous in his, pressing a small box into her trembling hands. For fear of her eyes betraying her heart, Gorgeous looked away from Sexy as she opened the fragile wrapping. Inside the box was indeed the key she had asked for. Bright rainbow coloured, beautiful and on a small chain. She remembered her note: But only if you take back the one you gave to Ex.
‘Did you do it?’ she asked. ‘Did you take back the other one?’
Sexy looked away. ‘Not yet,’ he replied, ‘but I will, I promise.’
Snow began to fall.
Gorgeous held her head up as she wanted Sexy to see the tears shining brightly in her eyes as she gave the key back.
image courtesy of Rock.love
Posts
