"Babe" [55-word story] | 18

"I'm almost done," he said, still painting. She was in the other room. They were going to dinner. She'd hurried to meet him.

The studio was cold, but he was used to this. She peeked in again, arms folded. "Hold on, babe," he said. She was five years older than him. Wasn't he a sweetheart?