​The old man, sat by the lake,  on the bench where his wife and he had met and spent the final years of her life.  He had watched her, gradually get older and more stooped. He watched as both her health and her body gradually deteriorated.  His feelings never faltered. To him she was as lovely as the day they met. Her smile and her eyes remained unchanged. In those final days he’d taken it upon himself ,  to put her on paper,  to write down everything,  that made her – her.  It had taken only a few weeks.  Since her passing he spent every minute, re-creating her,  bringing her back to life in words.  He finished his half sandwich,  and with his penknife re-etched their initials into the bench.  Taking one last look at the lake he stood up and walked away. Leaving the book behind. It’s opening line read; ‘Treasure is often found in the most unusual places,  in a person,  in a message, in a smile. I was lucky enough to find her.  In these pages I hope you will too’

Kevin Brown © 11.08.2016

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