May 9, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about growing older. It can be humorous, dark or poignant. It can be true or total fiction. It can be fine wine or an old fossil. Go where the prompt leads!
The note read: ‘I long to feel your calloused hands on my bursting breasts’.
What? Who? He re-read the note.
It was signed: Mary Titmus.
It’s a joke he thought.
The name says it all.
He knew he was old, wrinkly, and very disagreeable.
Women avoided him like the plague.
He laughed at the sender’s ludicrous name.
Then wondered if she was large and pendulous.
He wondered if there might be truth in what she wrote.
Within him, there was an ancient stirring, one he hadn’t felt in so long and wondered if it was a sign of hope.