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Meeting Sarah

He pushed hard on the arm of the chair, letting out a groan as old bones creaked and straightened.

Shuffling into the kitchen he put two cups of water into the kettle. One for Jenny and one for himself.

You had to be careful with water and electricity these days. Not that he was complaining. The loneliness got to him sometimes but he knew Jenny had her own life to lead, her own family to attend to.

Almost bent double his stoop forced him to look down. He spotted the photograph on the floor. He held it in his bent, swollen fingers, and wiping away a tear, dropped a kiss on the face of his beloved Sarah. He suddenly felt tired, so tired, and weary from the effort of living.

When Jenny found him he was sat in his chair, photograph on his chest, a look of contentment on his face.

Story by:

Joy Thomas

16 June 2017