A GOOD YEAR
Karen elbowed her sleeping husband, “Oh my God! Brian look! Wake up,” she said, shaking his arm.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry babe, I’m exhausted from the wedding.”
She pulled him toward the window. “It’s the blimp!”
Sure enough, high above the clouds, as though their own personal escort, floated the Goodyear blimp.
Brian’s heart swelled to near bursting, with love for his young bride as the window of the plane reflected back the child-like delight in her eyes.
Karen squeezed his hand, smiling, “It’s going be a good year.”