by Max Howell
They both got up, and helped Faith to her feet. They were all crying. Mark had his left arm around her waist, and Murray his right. They walked out into the brilliant San Francisco sunshine, and then went to the wharves, and watched the light playing on the water. Life seemed to stop still for a moment. Faith turned and kissed Murray, and then Mark, and then smiled at them. “My boys! My two wonderful boys. Wipe away the tears. There is to be no more crying. We are together at last. Together at last. It is what I have always dreamed of, always wanted. We have three or four months together, and we must make the most of every moment.”
No one said anything as they walked along the foreshore, each immersed in his/her own thoughts, a complex mixture of sadness and happiness. They were together at last, and that was the important thing. Every moment was one to treasure. They held tightly on to one another as they walked off into the distance.
