Yellow Roses

Blood rushed to my cheeks as I realised I was still clutching the prayer book he’d handed to me as I entered the church.

“I’m so sorry!”

He smiled. “There’s no need to apologise. At our age, we tend to get a little forgetful.”

A pair of baby blue eyes met mine. Although his face was unlined, it had the translucent quality of either the very young or the very old and a light breeze set his fine, white hair dancing about his head like thistledown. At a rough guess he looked to be at least eighty and I was a little taken aback to be bracketed in the same age group.

His eyes twinkled into mine as he turned to leave.

“I look forward to seeing you next week.”

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)