Homecoming

Without a doubt it was her.

He stared at the picture he held in his hands – the photograph had seen better days, and was yellowing at the edges, but he had done all he could to maintain it. He knew he would need it someday. She aged gracefully; it was a pleasant surprise. 50 and you could still see many of her younger features. She was as graceful as she was the first day he met her.

Walking down the street like she owned the city, her chin up and her glasses on, except this time, they weren’t shades. She wore a pretty floral print dress, with a matching beret and nice red slippers. Lucy had never loved wearing shoes, for this reason, going to dinners was always a mildly unpleasant experience.

He wondered whether she would still remember him; he had aged quite a lot. His full head of brown hair was now peppered with gray hairs here and there. He lost his right leg in the war, and wore a prosthetic, so he had a slight limp to his walk. But he hadn’t lost his physique – the discipline and exercise required of him while in the arm never did leave him.

How could he approach her now? What would he say? How would he explain? He scratched his head before covering it with his ca.

You’ve fought bloodthirsty mercenaries in a thick rainforest. You’ve wrestled with crocodiles and gone without food for days. This is child’s play, he said, giving himself some brief pep talk before approaching her.

“Lucy…” he said, tapping her shoulder lightly.

She turned quickly. It was in Lucy’s manner to confront any man who approached her on the road. He could still remember how they first met…

“What is…?” She stopped. She recognized him instantly…

“You never could keep a promise, Nathan…” she said, her eyes becoming teary.

“Dinner’s by 7. It’s 6:45. I promised I’d be early for dinner!” He said, laughing lightly and drawing circles with his legs like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“Yes you did. Twenty years ago! And what happened to your leg?” she asked, a small frown forming on her face, probably out of concern.  Her eyes were still as sharp as they used to.

“I lost it when a mine exploded.” He said his voice barely audible. The tears were streaming down his face now.

“You never did keep your things properly, you careless little thing.” she said, throwing her arms around him. “I made some Apple pie!’

“Ah, my favorite” he said as they walked into her apartment.

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I drafted this as the ending of a book about a man who left his girlfriend and went to war. Hope you enjoyed it!