Lover’s Cross
By J.M. Snyder
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Bruce asks as he pulls into Janice’s driveway.
Jory Murphy rolls down the passenger side window to hear last night’s sudden snow crunch beneath the tires. Cold air stings his eyes and burns his face as it curls into the car. He can do this.
Behind the wheel of the late model Tacoma pickup, his friend Bruce Smithson eases to a stop. “Jory?” he asks, concern edging his rough voice. He yanks on the handbrake and puts the car into neutral. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Jory replies.
He is fine. It’s been a week since the accident, and even though his hip hurts from the cold, giving him a slight limp in the evenings, he’s doing okay. The doctors think a few more sessions with his physical therapist should loosen up his muscles a bi
