The road ran plumb straight, ideal for speeding. Then, the pavement gave way to gravel, and the route turned into a tangle of hills and valleys. My hands were sweaty on the wheel. My head ached from scanning for potholes and from a lack of sleep. On the headlands, I rounded a curve and had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting two sheep, their eyes fixed on me, their lips chewing cud.
The ring case fell off the passenger seat onto the floor. I pulled over, picked it up, and put it in my blazer’s side pocket.
Read it in Discretionary Love