"Pathetic," she said with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes and grasped her hand. As gently as he could he twirled her away, before pulling her back to himself. Her cotton dress flowed as she moved, the little blue flowers on it, dancing along to her rhythm. But then...
"Sorry," he said, wincing as he felt his foot crush hers.
"Sad, so sad, SAD SAD, saaaaad," she grimaced. She grabbed at her foot and massaged it through her shoe.
"Three weeks until our wedding, I'll get it," he smiled.
"Yeah, even if it kills me," she laughed.
The old man laid back in his hospital bed, eyes closed, remembering. The wrinkles on his face easily numbered the many memories he'd made with her. Beside him, the dripping of the I.V. did it's best to ease his transition. Other than the occasional nurse coming and going, he was alone. The kids would be on their way, but would never make it in time for last goodbyes.
"Fifty-three years of dancing together," the old man spoke aloud, tears in his eyes. "Soon enough, my dear, we'll dance again. I'll try not to step on your toes this time."
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