Proptamon, I choose you! "They toured the house with the real estate agent. "We love it," he said. "Is there anything we should know about the house's past?" The agent looked down." So I think I'll start from this line and see where it goes.
They toured the house with the real estate agent.
"We love it," he said. "Is there anything we should know about the house's past?" The agent looked down. He looked back up with a grin.
"Well, this floorboard's a little bit loose. A simple patch job should fix it up nicely. But if you're worried about it I can call in the repairman...no charge, of course.
"Oh, that would be splendid." Christine said with a smile. "These old bones of mine aren't too fit for much of anything anymore."
"Not to worry, Mrs. Foster, we'll make sure this house is comfortable for you and your husband. And with that, our tour is over. If there are any more questions, fire away. Are you two sure you want this house? It's in the heart of the city, the neighbours may cause trouble..."
"It's perfect." Joey wrapped an arm around his wife. "When can we move in?"
It had been a year since then, and Christine hadn't gotten any younger. The lines in her face were increasing, her hair was a pure white, and not to mention the amount of health problems that were arising...she closed the photo album she had been looking through. She thought that a trip through memory lane would help her feel better about recent developments. Instead she just felt hollow inside.
"Christie?" A knock at the door and a rusty old voice checked in on her.
"Joey. Come in." He did, coming to sit beside her on the creaky bed.
"Move-in day?" he asked. She nodded. When she said no more, Joey's face took on a more worried tone. "My love, we're doing the best we can-"
"Oh, it's not that." Christine wiped a tear from her eye. "I don't expect I'll be around much longer anyway. eighty years is a long time to live. It's saying goodbye that hurts." Joey's eyes watered.
"I'm sorry." He held her close.
"Don't be," she said. They sat in silence for a while. Christine enjoyed the warmth that Joey brought her. She didn't want to leave his arms, but - beep beep beep beep.
"That'll be our dinner," Joey said sadly as the timer went off. "I'll go grab it out of the oven."
"Thank you. I'll be out in a moment." Joey gave her a reassuring squeeze and exited the room. Christine glanced at the photo book again, a pained smile crossing her lips. She knew she would have to come to terms with it. She used the edge of the bed to support herself getting up, and hobbled out the room very slowly.453Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLTx58V1MPa
She was walking through the hallway, well used to the creaks of the now old floorboards. She came into the kitchen where her husband was removing the lid to a dinner that smelled wonderful. Shepard's pie was still her favourite. She was about to grab a plate, when she felt her vision blur. Surprised, she stopped for a moment, allowing her mind to regain itself.
"Christine...Christine! Are you alright? Please, look at me. Say something." Christine's eyes focused on the tear-ridden face of Joey.
"Joey?" Her mind was still fuzzy; she saw two of him instead of one.
"I think you need to sit, my dear." He lead her to the kitchen table, where he made sure she was alright. After the first three times he asked if she was okay, Christine finally told him to dish out their food. Joey had a perplexing look on his face, but chose to abide. He placed her plate before her, and then sat down himself.
"You've taken very little," Christine noted.
"I've seemed to have lost my appetite." He twirled his fork solemnly.
"Now that won't do. Go fill your plate."
"You know I can't."
"And I know you will," Christine insisted. "Please, Joey. Don't let my sickness infect your mind that way." He stared at his plate.
"I'm just not ready to lose you yet." Tears filled his eyes again. Christine laid her wrinkly, shaking hand on top of his.
"You'll never lose me. I'll wait for you for a century, and a century more, if that's what it takes. So please, my sun and stars, fill your plate." The tears that ran down his face stained the tablecloth. With a shaky hand, he forced a huge bite of food into his mouth.
I gazed up at the ceiling before me. It was white, just like the walls and bed around me. My comfortable clothes had been replaced with a gown that itched, and almost all of my homely pleasures had been taken from me.
But as I looked back down at the faces that surrounded me, I couldn't care about any of that. My husband, my one true soul mate, held my hand. My children weeping for me, with their children holding onto their hands. My daughters, my sons, my grandchildren. They were what made my life worth living.
I could tell that my time was soon. But now, I wasn't afraid. How could I have fear when the next generation had such a life ahead of them? And now I can watch them grow and achieve their dreams forever. A life like that - how could I be afraid?
I gazed back at Joey. My Joey. He was crying - he had been for some time now. I could only look at him with a smile on my face, in awe of the man that loved me the most.
"Goodbye," he said, smiling back at me.
"Goodbye," I managed, drawing one last breath. I closed my eyes, exhaling one last time, and felt myself drift into an endless sleep. He never once let go of my hand.
Even in death, she still had that beautiful smile on her face.
Well, that was a lot more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be. I'm gonna go cry in a corner for a bit and come back tomorrow.
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