The Old Man...

Segment Three

Sunday dawned clear and cold, and Marcy was glad the library was closed as she puttered around her little bungalow, doing her weekly cleaning as she worked her way through a pot of coffee. Then she remembered she was supposed to meet Mrs. Moss at the old folks’ home at one. She panicked a little as she searched through her closet for what she considered appropriate clothing to meet with the woman whose house she was caring for. She finally decided on warmth over chic, ran out and started her little car, then ran back inside and poured the last of the coffee in her to-go cup. A quick stop by the library for the photo album she’d put together, and a quick peek in the back room told her that Corny had put all the chairs back around the tables. Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot at the old folks' home and glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes early. Do I sit here and wait or go in and wait? She saw a big old white F-350 pull in next to her and watched Mrs. Moss hop nimbly down from the cab. Well, that answers that. She climbed out with the photo album in her hand.