Final Act

“Double that,” Henry grins around his cigar.

“There’s no way you’ve slept with that many women.”

“Oh come on, Carl, in seventy years? Over two hundred women is not uncommon.”

Carl sniffs into his scotch. “If you’re a playboy!”

“Not everyone finds their one and falls in love.”

Like most comments about ‘love’, it makes him think of Ann and how she felt in his arms. He smiles through the tears that spark in his eyes.

“Was it worth it?” They both ask at the same time.

Neither answers the other. Carl raises his glass of scotch, instead.

“Cheers to our final act.”


Written for Micro Bookends, where they provide the first and last word – you write the rest.

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