They’d been for a walk by the lake, they did every weekend. Then John made lunch whilst Stella tidied. In the afternoon there was facetime with the grandchildren and a game of Scrabble. Putting the box away, Stella caught a glimpse in the mirror and sighed.
“You remember weekends before we played Scrabble? We’d make love, sometimes on a blanket under the trees. When did we get to be old?”
“Speak for yourself woman!”
“But we are.”
John drew her into his arms with a smile.
“Guess that’s the last game of Scrabble we’ll be playing for a while then.”