what would we talk about
old man invited me to lunch
I was young; he was an ancient antique
what would we talk about? I asked.
Anything you want, he replied.
I felt weird about it.
I was young, cute sexy, sassy.
He was old, stooped, gray, wrinkled.
I said “Maybe another time.”
He knew I was lying.
Gave me a sad look
Fifty years later I remember his look of disappointment
Wondering what I missed.
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