She's still beautiful.
Memories of a woman who is and is not this woman flow through his head at a mile a minute. This is not the woman who gave birth to him, but he could still imagine her kissing scraped knees, worrying over him during episodes with his heart, and telling him not to stay up too late with Uncle Tony in the lab.
"Good morning, ma'am." he says, taking the hand. "It's nice to meet you as well. I'm sorry to impose upon you like this, but I thought it might work best if we could break the ice before too much time had passed."
He straightens his coat again, checking for wrinkles the way she always taught him.
"How is your morning?" he asks. Besides, you know, the son from who-knows-where dropping by.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
