A MAN WHO WAS OVE AND A TRUCK IN THE FOREST
Before that day when the dour and slightly fumbling boy with the muscular body and the sad blue eyes sat down beside Sonja on the train,
there were really only three things she loved unconditionally in her life: books, her father, and cats.
She’d obviously had quite a lot of attention, it wasn’t that. The suitors had come in all shapes and sizes.
Tall and dark or short and blond and fun-loving and dull and elegant and boastful and handsome and greedy,
and if they hadn’t been slightly dissuaded by the stories in the village of Sonja’s father keeping one or two firearms
in the isolated wooden house out there in the woods, they would most likely have been a bit pushier.
But none of them had looked at her the way that boy looked at her when he sat down beside her on the train.
As if she were the only girl in the world.
Sometimes, especially in the first few years, some of her girlfriends questioned the choice she had made.
Sonja was very beautiful, as the people around her seemed to find it so important to keep telling her.
Furthermore she loved to laugh and, whatever life threw at her, she was the sort of person who took a positive view of it.
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