Late
"Sigh" she exhales.
He's late.
She gazes at her Rolex.
"Has something happened to him?",crosses her mind like a jaywalker crossing the street.
"He's never been late before."
She begins to pale, turning as white as flour.
The hairs on her neck begins to stand out, like meerkats on guard.
She scratches her head and begins to call him.
No answer.
Worry begins to swell within her. She looks around and maintains composure.
With a deep breathe she calls again.
"Brrrrrr", a vibrating sound begins behind her.
She turns "Chris!", worry dissolves and rage takes over.
He pulls a lot of red from behind him, roses.
She looks puzzled.
He smiles, "It's January 25th", he explained.
"Happy anniversary"!
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