Dave stumbled in through his front door, dragging his petulant and slightly injured suitcase behind him. At some stage between him depositing it in Bonn and him collecting it in Melbourne it had managed to lose a wheel. Strangely, this seemed only to improve its handling. It was still petulant and refused most instructions, but was more like a absent minded four year old rather than a tantrum throwing child of three. It was possibly the one upside of his ordeal of a return trip. Given the chance to leave his training session early, Dave decided to scarper and get home a few days early to surprise Erika. Of course, reorganising the flights left him with a 27 hour trip from Germany to home, but 2 days early was 2 days early. It was worth it.
Harry reminded himself that aging spares no one but the deceased. This was worth repeating on a day when any alternative to decay seemed preferable.
My friend, Neville aka Nev is 71 and suffers from a form of dementia called Lewy. That’s okay, he gets by. He does some odd things though, like falling over head first onto a brick pathway, or locking himself in his own backyard or putting his track suit pants on back the front or inside out, sometimes both.