A New Love Blooms In Old Age [FICTOID]

A shovel in the dust.  Not much of a hole, but it had to do.

The decaying old plantation loomed behind the colonel, a dapper gent despite his advanced years.

The walk from the house to the family cemetery tired him so he sat on a tomb to catch his breath.

He didn’t know many of the people there, friends of his brother who left home and turned up his nose at his inheritance to become a singer.

And truth be told, he did a fair job in that occupation, his husky soulful voice thrilling…well, if not millions, certainly tens of thousands.

But his brother lay dead now, and he was the last surviving member of his family.

“You must be the colonel,” a soft voice said.

He turned to look at the speaker and felt his life melt away.  She was an elegant and refined looking woman his age, dressed simply in a fine silk dress, but that was just the icing on the cake, the cherry on the ice cream, the berry on the muffin.

Her voice -- ah, her voice!  How marvelous, he thought.

“I am,” he said.  “The colonel, that is.  How may I help you?”

“You brother wants me to give you something.”

“And what would that be, my dear?”

“This.”  And with that she hauled off and punched him square on the nose as he stood up.

“Ow!  What did you do that for?!?!?”

“For what you did to your brother’s toy stuffed squirrel when he was seven.”  Her expression softened and she dabbed his nose with her handkerchief.  “I hope I didn’t hurt you,” she said.

“You only wounded my heart,” the colonel said.

© Buzz Dixon