Ransom
The back and forth motion of the windshield wipers make a thumping noise as they work to combat the drizzle coming down outside the cocoon Stelle and I have ourselves in. These rainy, overcast days of soon-to-be-summer are some of my favorite. Before the really unrelenting heat kicks in and when we still have a little room to breathe because the humidity isn't so high.
“Do you mind?" She leans over, going to change the station on the satellite radio.
“Octane too much for you this morning?" I reference the hard-rock station I like to listen to.
“Just a little." She flips until she finds something we can both agree on, then sits back against the fabric seats of my truck.
Reaching to the middle console, she clasps our hands together, entwining our fingers. If somebody had asked
