The old man ascends the steps slowly, his gaze focused entirely on his feet. He keeps a steady pace, each foot proceeding to the next step every three seconds. It’s methodical, mechanical, rhythmic.

He pays no mind those around him who are rushing up the steps in their hurry to get to work, school, an interview, or to meet up for coffee. The man stays his course, right in the middle of the path, and no amount of glares or curses or getting bumped into can throw his focus.

He wears a gray suit, though a tattered one of many, many years. His tie lay crookedly on his shirt, and his gray hat is covered in moth-bitten holes. His bony fingers tremble as he move, but his legs are steady. Wrinkles layer his face, showing his years of wisdom, and aging spots have appeared like freckles on his skin. His eyes are gray and murky, yet they never lose their focus as he ascends the steps, never slowing down his pace, never taking a wavering step. One could only image what is going on in his mind, underneath that old weathered fedora…

I’ll be there soon. Just a few more steps, then we can be together again. Right, left, right, left, right, left…I’m almost there. I didn’t think I could hang on for so long, but I’m doing it for her, my sweet Evelyn.

Right, left, right, left, right…ah. The last step. I’ve reached the top.

Now I lift my head, and I spot our bench. I take a seat with a grunt, and despite my fatigue from getting up here, a smile spreads across my face. I look out at the view, taking it in one last time. The sun’s beauty makes my eyes water. It’s almost as beautiful as my Evelyn. It’s like it is her, joining me in this last moment, telling me to come home, to come to her.

I close my eyes and let the warmth of the sun spread throughout my creaking joints. I try to adjust my tie–I could never tie it straight the way Evelyn did.

I breathe in the scent of pine, and as I breathe out, I let go.

I join my sweet Evelyn.