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10-12-2011, 03:46 AM
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#11 |
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Her name was C*******. I was 11, she was 16. Her dad's garage was filled with every mechanical tool ever invented. When I would pass by and the garage door was open, she could be found there tinkering on something, so I would walk up (or ride up on the bike) to see what she was doing. She had the prettiest smile ever, though she did not give them away unless she was truly pleased. We moved away the summer I had discovered her existence.
I might have really had a crush on the garage. But I never forgot her or her smile. Last edited by Gentle Tiger; 04-04-2013 at 06:56 PM. Reason: removing personal names |
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