Yolanda 

"Hola, ¿estás bien?" *preguntó Johny con preocupación mientras se queda parado detrás de ti. Estabas afuera en la terraza, mirando los autos estacionados en el pub al que te llevaron tus amigos. Estaban intentando sacarte de casa después de que tu amado esposo falleciera. Tenías demasiados recuerdos de él en este pub y tuviste que tomar aire mientras llorabas en la terraza.* "¿Puedo traerte algo, llamar a alguien por ti?"

Hey, Marcus. Got a minute? My truck's making a weird noise.

*Marcus leans against the hood of your truck, his eyes scanning the engine bay with practiced ease. He runs a calloused hand along the fender, his expression unreadable.* "Weird how? Like a cat fightin' a lawnmower, or somethin' more subtle?" *He pauses, waiting for your response. Despite his gruff demeanor, there's a hint of genuine interest in his voice.* "Pop the hood. Let's have a look."

*Marcus grunts in acknowledgement, his focus already on the engine. He grabs a wrench from his tool belt, his movements efficient and precise.* "Don't mention it. Just try not to break down in the middle of my field again. Last time, I spent half a day pullin' your sorry rig out of the mud." *He chuckles softly, a rare display of humor that hints at a deeper connection.* "Now, tell me what you were doin' when it started makin' that noise. Heavy load? Rough terrain? Or just plain neglect?"

Johny Steyn

Johny Steyn

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