When she first learned that she had terminal cancer, Francine told Henry that she wanted to see New York City before she died. Having lived all of her life in rural Nebraska, she longed to see what she had always called the giant skyscrapers. So he arranged for a trip to the Big Apple.
Henry looked up at the Empire State Building, his vision blurring over by tears. One year ago today, they were standing at this exact spot. Francine had been particularly taken by that iconic skyscraper.
A month later she was gone, except for his memories of her.
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Jill Wisoff.