“Both,” Lena said.
She’d lived in Malvern for twelve years. She knew every dipped curb near the old train station, every cracked stretch near the grammar school. But the pothole in front of the post office? That one was personal. Last week, it had bitten her front tire so hard she felt the jolt in her fillings.
“She’s a deep one,” he said. “Winter freeze got under the base. Water did the rest.”
She didn’t want a patch. She wanted a resurrection.
“No corners,” she said, walking out to inspect.
“That’s it,” she muttered, slamming her coffee cup down.
“Both,” Lena said.
She’d lived in Malvern for twelve years. She knew every dipped curb near the old train station, every cracked stretch near the grammar school. But the pothole in front of the post office? That one was personal. Last week, it had bitten her front tire so hard she felt the jolt in her fillings.
“She’s a deep one,” he said. “Winter freeze got under the base. Water did the rest.”
She didn’t want a patch. She wanted a resurrection.
“No corners,” she said, walking out to inspect.
“That’s it,” she muttered, slamming her coffee cup down.