18 “I should look into the animal shelter; I think I’d like to have a dog again,” he thought to himself. But wait, what had the doctor said? Something about how it wasn’t safe? The woman gave a firm jerk on the leash, “Heel! Come on, Henry!” The man’s eyes widened and he set his cup down with tremoring hands. “Henry!” a woman in a green coat called out and he looked up. He was younger now, dressed in a school uniform with a messy tie; missing a front tooth, with a pale face full of freckles. All he could see was the green coat—the woman’s face was a blur. Who was she? His mother? Emmeline had also worn a green coat. He’d come here with her too, hadn’t he? Before she died. He wanted to see her again, to walk their dog in this park and to hold her hand inside of the pockets of her green coat because he had forgotten his gloves again. He was always forgetting things. A snowflake landed gently on his cheekbone and he turned his gaze upward. The clouds had thickened and snowflakes were just beginning to fall, making their first descent of the year. As the snow fell, a kind of cloudy veil was lowered over his eyes. The old man reached for his coffee cup again, but he made a peculiar face after the liquid passed his lips. “Why is there cream in this?” The man turned and found another coffee cup on his left. That must be his. Yes, this time he was greeted with his black coffee: two sugars. He must have drunk Emmeline’s by mistake. He stood, noting the quickly disappearing footprints from the other pedestrians in the park. It was snowing harder now and he needed to go home. After all, Emmeline would want her coffee, and it was about time to feed the dog.
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