A dance token

 People saw him as just another old man staring into space, when in reality, he was reliving memories. Now, standing on a busy street corner, he remembered what it looked like decades ago—when youth and love were blossoming, the war had ended, and the dream of a bright future was within their grasp. As the crowd brushed past him, he saw her in his mind, young and beautiful, a smile on her face and love in her heart as they walked to the courthouse to be married.

Sixty years later, he looked up at a rooftop restaurant where they once dined. The building looked the same, although others had surrendered to the wrecking ball. The city had grown, and changes occurred before his eyes as he stepped off the curb with the crowd heading to one last stop.

The windows were boarded up, and the doors padlocked as he approached the old dance hall where they danced the nights away when each song played by the band found a place in their hearts to be called upon when memories were all he had left to remind him of her.

He could be seen on any given day roaming around the city, just another old man in an outdated coat and dancing shoes. Looking into windows, hoping for a reminder of her, like the old drugstore with a display of her favorite perfume in the window. The clerk seemed disturbed as he counted out the change from his pocket, coming up fifty cents short. He reached into another pocket and set a silver dance token on the counter, claiming it was worth so much more.

The night air was cold as he headed back to his modest home, where they lived for decades, although he admitted she kept a much neater home. He took the perfume from the bag and sat down. Very slowly, he let the mist hang in the air long enough to picture her there beside him, spraying the mist everywhere she said she wanted to be kissed.

Old age has no expiration date, no less feelings of wanting to be loved and remembered, just bits and pieces of dancing the night away with that special person, and a favorite perfume purchased with a dance token, and the need to remember.

Mike 2026