When I stood up, my mechanic had a big grin on his face, but very professionally told me that I could wait until the job was done in the waiting room ...t the end of the workshop. I thanked him and walked towards the waiting room. As I was walking along the side of the workshop I passed a hole in the wall as a young mechanic was walking out of it, carrying an open bottle of something. I didn't see him straight away, and he wasn't concentrating on where he was going and we collided. Part of the. Not the eyes I cherished—the ones that studied me with a mixture of amazement and adoration—but the placating, angst-filled eyes. The pleading eyes. I never wanted to see those eyes again. I heard his voice as I ran the tap water to wash my face. Not the voice I cherished—the one that promised me all his tomorrows—but the appeasing, soothing voice. The ass-kissing voice drifting through a closed door. I never wanted to hear that voice again. I knew as soon as he came back into the living room. More

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