He owes her nothing. The meal was light as was his spirit. He even attempted to dance. Anything for her. His bride and friend. She, the more serious type, backed away from the shore. She was not one to follow or chase dreams. He began to sing and she couldn’t resist his delight. Fifty years and he still knew her tickle spot, her one soft place at the nape of her neck where his love could live forever.
Victoria
Victoria Dillard Daily 