The Old Man

“The sun shined brightly through the stained glass window- it mirrored the light beautifully on the walls. I waited impatiently for my wife-to-be to cascade down those long stairs. Her thick, long, golden-brown curls bounced around her shoulders each time a foot would make contact with a step,” the old man choked on his words as he began his story.
“I studied her beauty as she made her way to me. Her thick eyelashes curtain her ivy green eyes. Man those eyes… They were so welcoming and kind… Anyways, she had a herd of freckles sprayed across her nose and cheeks- she hated ‘em, thought they didn’t ‘fit.’” I stared at the old man, silent. I wanted to hear more. Obviously, my face said that too.
“She was only halfway down the stairs. Now that I think about it, those things went on forever. And, it seemed like an eternity with my beautiful wife so close to me but not quite close enough. I swear that woman was an angel- a God-sent gift from heaven. You know what I mean?” He asked, his face serious. I just nodded my head; truly not understanding what he was talking about.
“Long story short, we got married and had two beautiful bouncing babies- a boy and a girl. My wife an I were married 78 years… This was our first and only house.” Suddenly, a horn beeped and we both looked up. “Well, that’s my son, it was good talkin’ to ya, boy. I really appreciate you and what ya’ll do.”
I watched the old man slowly wobbly away as he left me in front of his now disintegrated house