It was one of our last meals together. She’d fixed pork chops the way I liked: plain, fried, with onions, in an old iron skillet.
How could I tell her I’d miss her? “Whenever I see a pork chop, I’ll think of you.”
Once again, she gave me that look.
Norman Gin is a novice at writing and this is his very first attempt at a 50-word story.
Droll I enjoyed it
This great – welcome :)
That’s funny! … except it makes me wonder if maybe I misunderstood my whole first marriage … lol
Romantic to the end. Well told!