Fine Memory

He told me he wanted to see her. It didn’t surprise me; not one bit. She gave him something he craved, confirmation of his memories of a finer time.

When she spoke, it was of other things. She didn’t mention it unless he mentioned it first.

He told her he hoped he’d be an old man someday. He knew she meant it, with all that she was, when she looked him straight in the eye and said “I hope so too.”

She told him, “I’ve always thought you were handsome, every time I see you, it’s never changed. Always.” It was the last thing she said to him. He’d been happy to hear it.


About elroyjones

Married, no children, responsibly self-directed, living happily.
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