It was to be a relaxing day, old friends getting together…just “being”, not being “something” or obliged to “do” anything.
We went to lunch, gorged on things we wouldn’t ordinarily afford; giggled and talked about everything we used to find so easy, comfortable when we were much younger.
Afterward, we stepped into the museum with clock tower that I’d never visited…I looked at Penny, not knowing if I should laugh or cry, and said, “it’s been a wonderful day with you, but what an ending—we’re staring straight into the face of Time”…then we hugged, laughing through tears together.
Contemporary English Version It will happen suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye. At the sound of the last trumpet the dead will be raised. We will all be changed, so we will never die again.I Cor 15:52
Delia could never pass by a table of books for sale without stopping—there were always treasures, many were bargains.
She remembered when she and a man had both reached for a worn copy of Wuthering Heights at the same time…neither of them letting go, smiling in brief mute tussle before he shrugged, and surrendered it chivalrously.
“It’s okay,” she’d said, offering it back to him, “it’s sad, depressing even”—to which he’d replied, “most great love stories are…but if you’ll let me buy you a coffee maybe we can write a hopeful one.”
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