if, Benjamin Button had aged the other way ...
Right around the edges of his pleasant disposition you could see the marks left by numerous voluntary chains of spontaneous thoughts. Among the countless secrets that lay hidden in those fine creases and folds that defined each of his facial expressions, he was aware of the ones that weren’t evident enough to the untrained eye. Like the cyclicality of the days, months and years in his life, he had perhaps had experiences that were integral and inevitable to his existence, and often threatened to impede and restrict his thoughts from straying away to a place where they would find her, staring right back.
As he finally got up from his chair, his glasses fell down. He bent over and reached for them….
In those final few seconds he managed to see the world through those eyes again, he could see a face amongst the many equipments in the ambulance. It was hers. She was smiling at him. Her hazel eyes had the same twinkle that he had once grown so fond of. He managed to reach out his hand to caress her, to move a few strands of hair that dangled off her face, lovingly, for one last time. But, instead of finding her face, it was gently moved back to his side by someone in the van. He could hear muted voices all around him.
As she faded away the little tweets on the small monitor grew on him, and his breathing got shallower. And then suddenly, it was all over.
A few years had passed and it was another lovely morning. As she passed underneath the iron gates she felt the calmness of the place engulf her. She was there to see her. Her mother meant a lot to her, and she had promised to come visit her often. “You look beautiful today”, she said to her as she placed the flowers she had brought for her at her feet. A tear rolled down her cheeks.
Of all the things that a cemetery teaches you, it teaches you to be patient.
A couple of blocks away a light breeze moved a few leaves from a white stone slab. Inscribed underneath, it read – In loving memory of …
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