I am old and I am tired, so tired these days it has become an effort to get out of bed and dress myself. After all, what's the point? Today will be the same as yesterday which would be a mirror of the day before, ad infinitum.
My wife had passed away some years ago, luckily for her, as she had become a broken woman and more like a living corpse than a human being.
But even at my advanced age things can change, usually for the worst I admit but occasionally for the better, and that last is just what happened to me, and I will tell you if you can bear with me for a few moments.
We met one night a year or so ago and it was love at first sight for me, as it was for her she told me later. A deep burning love the like of which I had never known. She was tall, slim, dark haired and well dressed even though I thought her apparel looked somewhat old fashioned.
Long, dark hair trailed past her shoulders and onto her shimmering green dress. Her eyes were brown I noticed, and they drew me in and enveloped me like no others I had seen before. I was her willing captive from the moment we met.
She was my Enchantress and her name was Elise. I said my name was Harry and I asked her age but she told me nothing so, I assumed that she, being a lady, did not want to divulge such private details at that stage of our relationship.
Why she chose me to be her mate I will never know but she seemed intent to keep me and I was forever grateful and more than content to bask in her goodness, her kindness and overwhelming beauty.
Sex was not discussed between us but it was implicit and we enjoyed it every time we met, which was most evenings, and it always left me with a feeling of elation and physical completion with also a sense of loss when she left me until we met the next time.
