She watched the man swing a denim-clad leg behind him, dismounting his Harley.
“Steer clear of him, Sandy. He’s a wild one. He’ll break your heart.”
The voice took her back to the day her mother came home and found her proudly sitting on the porch steps with a stray cat at her feet. It had taken her all afternoon, a trail of bologna pieces and a saucer of milk to get him this close. She stroked his back, her patience rewarded.
At her mother’s words he darted away, gone forever. She still missed him.
(This is a 100 Word Challenge response.)