He sat looking at the clock, becoming more annoyed by the minute; she was late.
Her weekly visits usually happened a lot earlier in the evening. This had always worked out well with his favourite late night program. It started at eleven. The television was on, but muted. Another eight minutes and it would start. Surely, she was aware of how inconvenient this was! Mind you, he thought, when the personal video recorder packed up six months ago he didn’t replace it or try to have it fixed. If that was still around he could have recorded his show. There again, under normal circumstances he didn’t need one. These definitely weren’t normal circumstances. Where the hell was she? He checked the time again; two minutes to go. If only he still had that recorder. He began to ruminate on the machine and what it did. It was used to capture things. Things that you found precious…
He became teary. Slowly, his anger dissipated. After all, when it came right down to it, it was a question of values wasn’t it? What was more important, seeing his regular show or enjoying her regular visits, despite them being very short? Mentally, he chided himself for being so selfish.
He was thinking about this when a shimmering began to appear in the armchair next to his. Moments later she was there, looking as lovely as ever, despite her years. She turned to him, looking terribly worried.
“I’m so sorry!” she said, placing her hand over her mouth.
At first, he said nothing. He didn’t know what to say.
She went on. “Sorry, dear. I had trouble crossing over from the other side. I don’t know why.”
He just sat looking at her for a while, before giving her a loving smile as the shimmering returned.
“Don’t give it a second thought. You know how much I love you. Please feel free to visit anytime you like,” he said.
Tomorrow, I’ll go out and buy a new recorder, he thought.
