He remembered every word she had said as if it were yesterday.  He remembered her young, perfect skin, soft under his gentle caresses, and he remembered the well earned lines on her old face.  He felt her, saw her, heard her and smelt her.  His senses were filled with her presence.

The day he first met her he had found boldness in her eye and introduced himself.  The last day he had found courage in her smile as she had talked to him, comforted him.  He knew their separation wasn’t going to be long, he just had a few last odds and ends to take care of, a few lose strings to tie before he could join her.

“When you cross the river there will be a path up the hill.  At the top, an old fence in an old field.  I’ll be there, at the gate, waiting,” she had said,giving his hand one last squeeze before they parted. Continue reading →