By David Lowis
Ruth was ill-prepared for the epiphany.
Colin’s university colleagues and a few close friends were seated around the table for his retirement dinner. As her husband stood up, Ruth caught a whiff of mustiness from the jacket he seldom wore. He tapped a glass and pulled a note from his pocket. Whilst delivering his speech, his eyes settled on each guest in turn.
He came to Estelle, a fellow lecturer. Colin lingered for a moment longer, allowing Ruth a glimpse of something only she could have recognized, something she’d last seen over forty years ago: the sparkle of early romance.
“I write to satisfy my urge to create.” – the writer