At 82, I Found

Frank sat down exhausted, but peaceful.

That night, back home, he dreamed of Margaret.

In the dream, she was not old or sick. She stood in their kitchen wearing the navy dress from their twenty-fifth anniversary. Her hair was curled. Her eyes were clear.

Frank stood at the bottom of the stairs, ashamed.

“I’m late,” he said.

Margaret smiled sadly. “You always continue reading …