“I’m not that old,” Ed said to himself. He had always mumbled and muttered, but found that the more he aged, the more his inner discourse became outer discourse. He tried not to let it worry him. Young people talked to themselves, didn’t they? He wasn’t old! “On my birthday Mike told me that 50 is the new 30. Mike should know. He’s, what, 6 or 7 years older than me, and he is more active than I have ever been in my entire life. Hell, he spends a week skiing in Aspen every year. Wish I could afford to ski in Aspen….”
He wasn’t sure how it happened, but Ed had checked out of the B&B and moved into Liza’s spare room. He was lying on the bed, fully clothed and on top of the covers, tired, but not ready for sleep.
Part of the problem was the pain.
He ached in places he never knew existed.
“It was the fall, that’s it. I shouldn’t have been traipsing around the moor after such an accident. And running too! I don’t run. Must be the problem.”
For some reason he wasn’t totally convinced. He remembered his coworker Bill telling him that it is all downhill after 45. Every day there would be new aches and pains. Every day he would discover something else he could no longer do. Every day he would…
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