The Uphill Slide

There is always something.



The speaker buried two husbands, so she explained of thrice singleness. The widow beside me was still wearing her wedding ring and diamond. I haven’t worn mine in years. The salesman warned us that the intricate design made it impossible to resize them. Two kids and thirty years later, he had seen my future. The rings wouldn’t slide over the knuckle. The husband’s was a hazard at work, or so he claimed early on.

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