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Description
He laid there with her cuddling, and exploring her body like he had since they first met. He was more intimate with her body than his own. He had spent years exploring it, just as she had explored his. They were in love and had been since the moment they first met. In the fifty three years they had been together they only had eyes for each other. Everyday they could be seen walking hand-in-hand around their small town, smiling. They never said a word. They never had to; each knew what the other was thinking, even though no one else ever heard a word. They understood each other in a language of gentle squeezes, youthful glares, and mischievous grins. This was there life, idyllic.

Looking over into her eyes, he ran a finger down her spine. He could feel each line and wrinkle and knew each one so well. To him, each one represented a page in the diary of their life together. They had seen so much together, both joyous and remorseful. From the birth of their child to the death of their families. He felt the soft lines and traced his hand up to her face where he brushed hair from her eyes. He lost himself in her eyes once more.

He had first fallen for her when she was just a girl. It was love at first sight. The kind that people only read about and yearn for in their life, even if just for a moment. She had moved to this small town from Halifax, where her father had come from to work in the mines. They met at the annual church bizarre and had never been separated since. As they aged together she only became more beautiful to him. Every wrinkle adding to the quiet dignity he had fallen for and found so attractive.

He ran his hands through her hair and she rested her head on his chest. She ran her hands through the hair there, and let it rest upon his right breast. She snuggled closer and burrowed into him as she looked up at him. They laid there in the bliss of each other, content to never move again.

“Have we sinned ourselves enough before we go to church?” he asked. She held him tight and simply moaned in agreement. He kissed her forehead and playfully asked “So does this mean you’ll be getting the tea now?”

It was colder than usual on this late November day as they laid there debating who should have to leave the warmth of their bed. Each one playing a pleasant game with the other ion the hopes of trying to guilt them into braving the cold.

He looked her and made a cheerful face playfully saying “Fine. I guess I’ll have to brave the horrors of the world for you so you can have your tea. The next time though, you have to be the one who faces the harsh world for me.”

He leaned over and kissed her as began to get up. They were in love. They always had been and always would be. He sat at the edge of the bed and looked over at her like he had for the past fifty three years, and smiled…

He never felt the floor that day, he never heard her cry out his name, he never smelt her sweet scent as she held him in her arms, and he never tasted her lips as she kissed him, crying. The only thing he could see, and the last thing he saw, was her face smiling back at him the way it had every Sunday, when he got up to get the tea.

By: Shaun McCormick

Description
He laid there with her cuddling, and exploring her body like he had since they first met. He was more intimate with her body than his own. He had spent years exploring it, just as she had explored his. They were in love and had been since the moment they first met. In the fifty three years they had been together they only had eyes for each other. Everyday they could be seen walking hand-in-hand around their small town, smiling. They never said a word. They never had to; each knew what the other was thinking, even though no one else ever heard a word. They understood each other in a language of gentle squeezes, youthful glares, and mischievous grins. This was there life, idyllic.

Looking over into her eyes, he ran a finger down her spine. He could feel each line and wrinkle and knew each one so well. To him, each one represented a page in the diary of their life together. They had seen so much together, both joyous and remorseful. From the birth of their child to the death of their families. He felt the soft lines and traced his hand up to her face where he brushed hair from her eyes. He lost himself in her eyes once more.

He had first fallen for her when she was just a girl. It was love at first sight. The kind that people only read about and yearn for in their life, even if just for a moment. She had moved to this small town from Halifax, where her father had come from to work in the mines. They met at the annual church bizarre and had never been separated since. As they aged together she only became more beautiful to him. Every wrinkle adding to the quiet dignity he had fallen for and found so attractive.

He ran his hands through her hair and she rested her head on his chest. She ran her hands through the hair there, and let it rest upon his right breast. She snuggled closer and burrowed into him as she looked up at him. They laid there in the bliss of each other, content to never move again.

“Have we sinned ourselves enough before we go to church?” he asked. She held him tight and simply moaned in agreement. He kissed her forehead and playfully asked “So does this mean you’ll be getting the tea now?”

It was colder than usual on this late November day as they laid there debating who should have to leave the warmth of their bed. Each one playing a pleasant game with the other ion the hopes of trying to guilt them into braving the cold.

He looked her and made a cheerful face playfully saying “Fine. I guess I’ll have to brave the horrors of the world for you so you can have your tea. The next time though, you have to be the one who faces the harsh world for me.”

He leaned over and kissed her as began to get up. They were in love. They always had been and always would be. He sat at the edge of the bed and looked over at her like he had for the past fifty three years, and smiled…

He never felt the floor that day, he never heard her cry out his name, he never smelt her sweet scent as she held him in her arms, and he never tasted her lips as she kissed him, crying. The only thing he could see, and the last thing he saw, was her face smiling back at him the way it had every Sunday, when he got up to get the tea.

By: Shaun McCormick