(This is my first attempt at posting something I've written, and so I couldn't make a decision about whether to write this for Six Sentences or for 3WW; so I combined them and put it here.)
by Matthew Gruchow
She had taken the late train to the sea, to the small cove and tree-hidden spot of beach where she had met him all those years ago. Now old and gray-haired, with memories to cling to, she dug her toes into the still-warm sand, looked briefly into the night sky and closed her eyes. They had swam naked here on nights like this; made love on the beach; dined and talked late at the small cafe over the ridge. She had watched him lay in the bed these last hours: a lion of a husband turned soft and weak, a murmur of his former self, and then he was gone. She opened her eyes and fought the arthritis in her knees as she rose to her feet, stripped off her dress and pretended the cool breeze off the dark water was his hand caressing the wrinkles in her skin and tossing her hair. They had made an oath in those early, lusty days that they would never leave each other, and so with the deliberate and steady steps of an old woman she walked into the waves to meet him.