Clarkandmartha -

Martha dusted her hands on her apron. “I know. I was gonna call the Miller boy down the road. But since you’re here, and you can see the microscopic stress fractures in a bolt from a hundred yards…” She looked up at him, her blue eyes sharp and loving. “Maybe you could just tighten it without, you know, turning it into a pretzel.”

Clark chuckled. “I’ll be gentle.”

He was just Clark. And Martha was just his mom. And that was more than enough. clarkandmartha