It took longer and longer each day to make it to the bench in the park, but he was determined. The bench, like him, had seen better days. The paint was peeling, the slats getting bent out of shape, the wood almost too fragile to hold any weight.
He’d promised, though, and he always kept his promises.
Besides, sitting in the very spot where he’d first seen his Marjorie, he still felt closest to her. If he shut his eyes he could almost feel the gentle touch of her fingers, hear her voice.
“You can let go now. I’m waiting.”
Friday Flashers have 100 words to tell a story from the provided picture prompt. Do check out the other flashers. You won't be disappointed. :-)
Till next week, folks.