The Challenge
“The challenge,” the old woman whispered, “is to never stop creating yourself.” Silver hair, pale skin became golden feathers—she flew away.
“The challenge,” the old woman whispered, “is to never stop creating yourself.” Silver hair, pale skin became golden feathers—she flew away.
He looked seventy, and his shoes looked older. “Can I have a bag of popcorn?” he pleaded, his neck craning over the counter. No one came.
20 years apart couldn’t dull their love. News of his cancer brought them together again. They married in the hospital a week later.
The children squealed with delight. The grandparents wheezed and thanked their lucky stars to be alive. They paid a token for one more ride.
Advil. Glasses 2.50. MORE magazine. Orthotics. Baby boomers beep beep beeping to find their cars, Volvos and Priiii. Next up? A will. Won’t.