Night follows day. This age has been a long time coming. Ninety years of life not same of living.
She moans and creaks, tells me her joints are rusty, tells me she’s past her use by date.
Father Time is playing a cruel game with her, with all of us. He’s keeping her waiting.
This is an entry in this week’s Trifecta Challenge – between 33 and 333 words, using the word RUSTY, with the definition provided…