Certain realities of aging a person just couldn’t accept. He’d been prepared for the potbelly, the tiny forests sprouting from his nostrils, hair coiling out of his ears. And while he sure didn’t like it, he wasn’t surprised when his mile went from seven minutes to eight to just over nine. Part of the process, he figured. But last night, when he was peeing for the third time, a single silver strand peeked through the opening in his boxers. He yanked it out with his wife’s tweezers and went back to bed. He cried silently, praying she wouldn’t wake up.
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Title by: ClamLydia
Story by: Jenny
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