Love is in the Bike

She opened the Valentine he had left by the bed.

“This year no hike.
Go ride your bike.”

Last year’s hike had been a disaster. They walked along the edge of the jetty. He clowned around, until he fell right into the ocean. After floundering to the shore, she wrapped him in her pink jacket as they hurried back to their apartment.

Oh, the looks they had gotten! He was soaking wet and wearing a pink jacket; she was wearing a thin shirt. They laughed all the way home, and sneezed for the next month.

On her bike she found another note:

“You know where you want to go —
Ride on down to the studio!”

She rode to one of her favorite places — the clay studio.

She parked her bike by their unused door and saw her next Valentine taped to it.

“The clay is ready; the wheel’s all set —
Go make something, my Coquette.”

She rolled her eyes. She hated that nickname, but the clay and wheel were both waiting for her as the note had said.

She was soon absorbed in her work. Time stood still as she shaped and reshaped the vase. She was startled when the studio owner tapped on her shoulder and handed her another card.

“Come outside and you will see
A special valentine from me.”

She washed her hands and stepped out the door. Her bike was covered with flowers, all her favorite kinds.

He knelt beside it, holding a small square box.

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Too corny? Probably.

This is my response to the Unicorn Challenge this week. It’s an easy challenge (in theory) — no more than 250 words and base whatever you write on the photo prompt.