Old Friends

Teresa stood on her tippy-toes to peer out of the small basement window placed so close to the ceiling. No sign of rain, yet.

She turned back to finish organizing the books on the newly built shelving, humming absentmindedly to herself. Some mishmash of three or four different showtunes, the same odd tune she always hummed when she was working.

One of the books felt different under her fingers ash she pulled it from its cardboard home. She paused and glanced down, flipping the book to have a look at the front cover. Smiling to herself, she took a step backwards and reached behind her for the arm of the recliner that she knew was there.

Once settled, she put her feet up and cracked the book open. She lost herself in the old childhood favorite for hours, and by the time she closed the back cover with a sigh, it was pouring down rain outside.

She gasped in shock, and quickly checked her watch. Sure enough, more than three hours had passed while she was reading, oblivious to the outside world.

She took a look around at the half dozen boxes of books still resting peacefully in front of the mostly-empty shelves. The rest would have to wait until tomorrow; right now, it was time for her to go pick Todd up from work. She checked her watch again, and grimaced It was going to be close.

She kicked the footrest down and got out of the recliner. Rubbing her finger against the spine of the book, she briefly pondered what to do with it, where to put it so it wouldn’t be lost again, before settling on the top shelf, all by itself, at least for now.

She kissed the tips of her fingers and waved a fond goodbye to the boxes and shelved books before turned toward the stairs with a sigh of regret. Parting was such sweet sorrow.

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