We were supposed to meet at the Bay Bridge, but he never showed up. Hours and hours passed, I waited for him in the warm summer air, alone in the dark the dim glow of my lantern the only thing warming my heart. In the east, the rising sun glowed the most beautiful pink I have ever seen just over the hill. A row of tall trees blocked the horizon, but a hue filtered through. That is when I gave up. He was never coming .I let out a sigh and I started my long walk home. The narrow mossy path was barely wide enough for two.
As I arrived home, I saw the mail boy coming to deliver the daily newspaper. The boy was sweating in the dry summer heat
“You just wait here, dear. I’ll be out with a glass of water for you.”
“Thank you Ma'am that’s very kind”.
He sounded quite pleased that I had offered him a glass of water. He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
I poured two glasses, one for the boy and one for me.
He thanked me again, gulped down the water and moved on to the next house.
I opened the creaking door and sat at the table, Unfolding the thin paper,,I turned to the page with the obituaries. I always read them first to see if I recognized anyone.
My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe it. That’s why I didn’t see him. He was there, just not physical form.He would never do that to me.
The rising sun told me all I needed to know.
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