I'll go get some things and I'll close the gate on my way back.”He ran to back to the house and came back three minutes later with the biggest boyish grin.“I know it was stupid,” he apologized when he climbed back into the car, “but I'll make it up to you. I had an idea. I know you'll love it, I promise. But don't peek, okay?”“Whatever...” Andrea commented with a pissed tone and started the car again.She tried well to catch a glance of what Eric was fondling between his hands.“Hey, no peeking! Eyes on the street!” he exclaimed when he caught her.After about ten minutes, he said, “Don't move and please don't be startled.”Before she could protest, she already felt her hat on her head again and Eric's hands on each side of her face. He had to lean over the gearshift to do so. His hands held a soft, thin ribbon which he gently traced down her cheeks. He could feel her tensing up and thought he heard a low sigh escaping her lips. He tied the laces together below her chin so the hat would. Would not hold through all time. Nothing ever did. And no matter how good a girl you were, it was never enough. People came and they went. Things changed. Time moved on. Just like the wheels and gears that turned the peddle of Nana’s old sewing machine. The foot upon the peddle turned the wheel at the side. A belt connected it to another smaller wheel that turned a wheel upon the sewing machine. The needle went up and down. And with it the threads of time. They caught on other threads from the bobbin beneath. Stitches formed. Some so tight that they puckered the fabric. Others too loose to hold the pieces together. And some just perfect. Perfect for as long as they lasted anyway. She found the tiny silk rose bud that she had bought just for this dress. She brought it to her nose. But of course there was no smell. It was silk. Not the sweet pale pink buds that opened so briefly each spring. There was no life in this flower. Not even for the briefest of moments. Her fingers trembled.
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