The Tragic Tale of Teddy Woven

The road dipped downwards, and I could see the outline of a bridge in the distance that stretched across an unbidden stream. I watched it stream downwards, jutting down the sleek brown rocks to descend from a small waterfall. The scenery was so calm, it was a pity Teddy could not feel the same way.

His car soon drove over a stony bridge, so I quickly rolled down the window to hear the water gushing downstream. Teddy pulled over to the side of the road and turned down his music so that I could truly hear the falls. It was a kind gesture, something I greatly appreciated, but I could not find the words to express it aloud. I sat perfectly still, listening attentively to the water, and once I felt satisfied, I turned a gaze to him. “Thank you, Teddy.”

“I will have to take you down there sometime. There are some trails you can follow, they lead naturally to the ocean.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t have time for that.”

He arched up his right eyebrow in question. The car was put into drive, and then he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal to set his vehicle in motion.

The soft keys of the piano soon filled the air after the stereo’s volume was turned up more. Teddy kept his gaze focused on the road, following the pathway that wound left and right to take us to the low valley where a small village was situated. I glanced at the tiny houses, the modesty of the surrounding that lacked the grandeur that Teddy possessed. His car slowed down once we entered the natural traffic of the village, and without anything picturesque to look at, it felt right to start a conversation with the man beside me. “Do you come down here often?”

“To buy groceries,” he relayed with disinterest.

“Nothing else?”

“No, not really.” He stopped the car at a roundabout, waiting for his turn to enter traffic. “I see nothing of interest here.”

“Do you ever go into the shops?” I inquired. “The restaurants?”

“No, never.”

meet your

low as he

up the

friends,” he

“Oh?”

are shocked by it,” he observed. The brake pedal was pressed downwards to allow his car to slowly ease into traffic. “I thought you would be the only

“Why?”

a thought,” he relayed softly.

have a lot of friends,” I acknowledged. “But I have one or two I can rely on. A person needs that, you

for lunch tomorrow?” he asked at random. “I was thinking salmon.

since he was exiting the roundabout. There was a sign up ahead to show we were approaching the bus terminal. I experienced a heart-sickening feeling at the sight of it, for I

I wasn’t asking you for that,” Teddy finally relayed to me, while purposefully slowing down the speed of

serve

in an irritated voice. The terminal was right ahead of us, already crowded around by small buses

his keys stay in the ignition as he slowly dropped his hands away from the steering wheel. I could feel his patient gaze on my profile, but I was too afraid to

for the drive

“Anytime.”

try and find some way to make

jeered. “But I would never ask that from you.

long time, to the point that I