The Chairs

I can still remember the chairs by the lake. I see Mum sitting on the right, Father on the left, almost no space between the chairs. They are holding hands, sitting in silence, looking at the sun. The golden ball sinks slowly to the lake, the mist rises from the water, and the air is the colour of roses.

I look at them and I smile, because I know that next summer I’ll be sitting with them, in Mum’s lap and look at the golden lake. They just don’t know it yet. They still think they are only two.

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