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.
Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2019/05/10/may-9-flash-fiction-challenge/
Morpethroad 
Love it. And we say we’re old and deny any lingering need … until we think we might be in with a chance ….
So often it can feel like that 😉 until reality hits 😀
Thanks. I look forward to it 🙂
Wonderful writing!
Thanks so much Susan
Great post.
Oh…we passed by Morpeth Road a few days ago. We took a detour at Raymond Terrace Road to Rutherford via Raymond Terrace road. Did you noticed that I had waved on the way pass?
Was that you? Goodness I must be more vigilant.
LOL!
Spring arrives every year, even to as we grow older and hope stirs at such promises of propagation like blossoms and bees.
It certainly does Charli