It was a baking hot summers day when Mr. Jark dragged bags across his front garden. It caught the attention of the young lady who's just moved in a few doors down across the road. She was lying down on a towel wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white vest top reading the latest Peter James novel. The sun was too much for the elderly Jark. He's eighty five but doesn't let that stop him from living. He stops half way and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He bent over to pick the bag up but was told to drop it. He looked up to see the young girl standing in his driveway. "You don't have to do that. Please let me." She insisted. "Oh good heavens you startled me,I'll do it don't worry"I won't hear anything of it." She took the bag and took it for him to the end of his driveway. "Is that all of it?" she asked.
"Only a couple of bits but please you don't have to."
"I know I don't but I want to. We can't have you suffering on a day like this." She jogged along to the door and got the rest. She didn't want to say anything but the bags were not really that heavy. She then figured with his age a feather might as well weigh a hundred kilos.
