(Please note: the image of a red bench (from fffaw) has disappeared, and I can not get the picture from other blogs to work. To view the bench, see other fffaw posts)
Another Valentine’s Day, and no money for a ring. He’d wanted her as his wife for so long and so hard, his heart hurt. But he still couldn’t buy her a ring. Hell, he couldn’t buy her a dry, warm, decent place to stay. He could give her nothing. She’d find some trash that, with her gentle hands, became a trinket. A love token for him.
This year was going to be different. He nosed around the houses being gentrified near the park. Amazing what folks just discarded. Always made him shake his head. In a couple of hours, he had what he needed.
“Don’t look,” he said. “Keep them beautiful eyes closed.” With her in position, he whispered in her ear, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love. Open your eyes.”
She clapped her hands together, and did a little kick step dance. He had painted her favourite bench Valentine’s red. (149 words)