We were out strolling along the river when Crisp my aged companion, made the statement I found somewhat surprising.
“I think I’d like to live to be a hundred.”
“Whatever for?” I asked.
“Not many people do, and not many die over hundred.”
“That makes no sense, you know.”
“I know, but I’ve always found it funny.” Humour was never Crisp’s forte, and so I found it surprising she would see the funny side of living so long.
“You know,” she said, “for a while, there would countless funerals to attend of family and friends, but once they’d all departed, the time would be yours. Make new friends, younger ones I would hope for.”
I thought to myself, Crisp is going senile. I had to remind her she’d be lost without me, at which she rolled her eyes and walked on.