By, Nan Claire Falkner

On route to the wedding, Marge was looking through her messy purse for the invitation. “What was the address Harry?”

“Don’t know, lovey.” He shrugged the question off without his thought process ever touching base with any intelligent conscious grey matter. “We’ve been there before.” Harry added.

“But, that was for her Christening 25 years ago.”

Looking at the broken clock on the dashboard, Harry asked “What time does it start?”

“4 o’clock.” Marge said almost convincing herself she was correct.

Looking toward the floor mat, she spotted the missing invitation.

“Harry, its next weekend and, it’s at twelve noon.


15 thoughts on “Directions

  1. I agree with Sandra on Doug’s comment. I can just picture this elderly couple on a road trip. It’s fun to watch from a distance, but I don’t think I’d want to ride with either of them behind the wheel.

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