She sits quietly in the cushioned chair.
A book rests in her lap
as reading glasses rest on her nose.
The mantel clock ticks and tocks,
ticks and tocks, obedient to the pace of time.

Other sounds take turns telling her all is well,
the click of the furnace as it turns off and on,
the knocks and pings of the old house
as it stretches.
The scent of apple pie drifts faintly
from the kitchen.
Warm tea in a small china cup
rests on a nearby side table.

She sips her tea after turning each page.
It is a love story beautifully written.
She pauses to sip the tea and to remember.