She sat down heavily at the little chrome table. She’d just have a minute. Around her the Saturday shoppers passed unaware. The tears had come from nowhere. Well, that wasn’t strictly true… it was the spectacles that had done it, left next to the empty coffee cups. Just like his. A style no-one wore these days. Seeing them there on the table had made her heart lurch. Just a minute, then she’d take them in to the counter. Somebody would be bound to miss them.
He’d always worn the same style… aviators, they called them. She shook her head to clear the memories. It was a long time ago… a good innings, they’d said… Too young though.
She had been young then too, slim and attractive, once the dark circles had faded and the pinched look of grief left her eyes. She was older now than he had been… older…
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