He opened the wallet and looked inside. $23.00 in cash, some credit cards, and her ID. “Sara Holstein” he read aloud. He slid the ID back into her wallet and put it back on the passenger seat. He picked up the condom. “Not on the pill, I guess.” He mused. He took the battery out of her cell phone and put the rest of her things back into the purse. He shifted into first, pulling away from the gas station much more smoothly now that he had some practice with a manual again. About an hour later, he pulled up the gravel drive leading to his house. It was an old farmhouse sitting on three acres, with no neighbors for a quarter mile in all directions. There was a detached barn, and old, run down grain silo, and various bits of ancient farm equipment sitting around that hadn’t been used in several decades. Despite this, the grounds were relatively well trimmed, and the house was not in terrible condition. It could probably use some paint and work on the roof, but all in all, not. I had seen to that fact sitting in front of three shots of whiskey. I did not want a brazen woman this night. I was looking for something very different, but what I did not really know. Certainly, I had taken my share of lovers, but none were capable of sharing my burden, nor had they wished the pain of being apart from me. Though the act of my heart beating inside my chest had long been dormant, I am subject to the same aches and pains of love that every other being on this planet is doomed to. Again, I felt her sorrow. No woman was against any of the walls. I tilted my head to listen better, it was if the crowd was blocking her from my sight. Finally, again, I felt her pain more directly and I saw her sitting at a table on the very edge of the dance floor. I carefully assessed the nearest tables, void of any thought beyond the goal of trying to comfort this woman who clearly called out to me. I hesitated glancing this woman over. She was smaller than my usual type. She sighed.
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