Brown Shoes

I couldn't stop thinking about them yesterday. Terry and Ann. I literally just found his Facebook page. What's that old saying about curiosity? I hate that I can't stop myself from googling his name. I am conflicted that I found his page. On on the day of this entry. I knew I was going to write about him today.

I had a thought, but more like a prayer, yesterday.

I thought about his brown shoes and remembered begging him to move them. Then something strange happened... I saw movement. I saw his feet move. Then he slowly got up from the ground as his wife came over to him. They hug and kiss and stand up together. I fantasized about their vacation and the cruise. Taking pictures on the deck, swimming in the ocean, drinking out of pineapples. Face-timing with their children and grand children. Later, I imagined them walking through a door, with fresh tans, albeit slightly burned cheeks. As they put down their stuff, their grandchildren run to them and hug them. Their children kiss them both on the cheek. Then they sit around the dinner table telling fun stories and showing pictures of their cruise and all the fun they had. I imagine them going to bed feeling love, happiness, and peace.

"That's my husband," she wailed.