Growing old Stories

Sleep falls gently from my eyes And with a yawn, I glance at you Already seated beside that dressing table Once more wearing that false, sweet smile. 'How early this time, did you rise?' To sit and pout before that mirror Whilst night and stars still flee to day Even bird songs have yet to hail the dawn. For far too long, I've held my peace So, I furrow my brow and frown at you. You turn then pause and inquire of me, “Wha...

“How does it work?” he asked the wizard. “Essentially, the potion alters your personal scent to match your loved one’s desires. But…” “Yes, I know.” “Is she really that beautiful?” “As fair as the sun.” He breathed deeply of her scent, pressing his nose to her bare, honeyish skin. He watched her tug on his cock, coating it with saliva. Her eyes sparkled with youth, joy, and life. As the sun rose on his ninetieth birthday...

Ricardo and Laia had been married for fifty-three years. They were sleeping less now they had reached their mid-seventies. They’d go to bed at eleven, read a bit and sleep. Then they’d wake at about five and pick up their books again. They loved reading. They attended church most weeks. They still attended the local festivals. Their daughters were both married and had long since left home. Ricardo and Laia lived for their...