I stood at the bottom of the hill. Icy wind blew through my short hair. I forgot my hat. I always forgot my hat. Snow covered the path to the top, and my boots crunched the white ground as they led me there. She was supposed to meet me. I hadn't seen her in ten years. We spent a summer together, in the time of being young. It was hard, when she left. There was a programme overseas she loved. I got a job offer in Chicago. We moved on from each other, or at least tried to. I dated other women, most of them resembling a piece of her. One had her laugh but was an atheist. The other loved Jesus but was terrible with money. None of them made me laugh like her. None of them turned me into a gibbering idiot like she did. So, I looked her up. A particle biologist. Of course, she was. I left a message with her secretary. He left a message with my assistant. She wanted to meet me at the top of this hill.
A finger tapped on my left shoulder. A streak of grey graced her hair. Her smile had worn lines in her face. She had more moles on her hands than before. But her eyes were the same. The green life was still there. They were younger than mine. Her whole life could be seen in those eyes, of youth and hopefulness. The lines on her face lit up her smile. A hand covered my face. I couldn't hide me smile. Then we couldn't help it anymore.
We laughed.