He turned back to the window, where the moisture had started to freeze, stretching out like the strands of a spider's web. Again he stared expressionless into the dense nothingness of the glass. Then he grinned. Bet you're a painter. Casablanca is one of my favorite movies.
Today is an anniversary of sorts.
I pictured an upset and lonely woman some place, looking at her watch, tapping her foot, staring at the door, waiting impatiently for her husband to come home with flowers, candy, an excuse. I asked, pretending that I hadn't noticed the absence of gold on his finger. He laughed a little, between sips of coffee. Hell, I wouldn't even notice my own birthday if I didn't get a card or phone call from my kids. No, I remember my son's and daughter's birthdays, the birth of my grandson, and one other very special day.