Stone Circle Not the first not the last

She glows, imbuing with pride in his words, and his approval. It was what she had wanted so desperately to hear from her own father, but never would. Gunnar was more that man to her than he’d ever been. She sighs, eyes finding their paws, brown beside gray.

Yesterday looked so different. She knew tomorrow could, too.

“You’re not. My grandfather lived until thirteen, he was spry well into double digits- and you’re in much better shape than he was,” she insists. There is denial, because if there wasn’t, she’d be forced into the acceptance that his time was limited, and she didn't think she could bear that.