Ring of Time

I stalked them, driving slowly behind his rusty Ford pick-up.

They were unaware, half-asleep, and weary with the prospect of another day.

He moved as though to put his arm around her, then paused, and ran his fingers through his hair.

She turned her head, and glanced at me, and I looked away.

Only when I passed their car did I see the plastic handle marking the presence of a third.

They pulled into the driveway of his workplace--a building full of gray cubicles--where he hopefully kissed her goodbye before resigning himself to another day, tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

I hope they're happy.