His freckled hand shakes slightly as he reaches for a glass of wine from the round glass table in front of him, but his fingers curl around the stem with ease. His thin lips, a bit wrinkled with time, reach for the rim and smile as a sip goes down. He pushes his silver rimmed glasses back up the ridge of his nose and turns the hundredth page of a large book on his lap. His blue eyes scan quickly over the words in a way only someone who has read more than a thousand books could do... Page one hundred and one.
The door to the porch is open, and the few white hairs on his head blow in the breeze. Despite the warm air, his thin skin beckoned a light burgundy sweater. His hips began to ache in his chair, so he places the book face down on the table and slowly stands up. He shuffles to the door, slightly hunched in the shoulder, and steps outside into the sun, letting the warmth sink down into his bones. A squirrel darts across the trees, rustling the leaves. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose, bringing the smell of pine into his senses.
Back inside the shelves are lined with picture frames. In the center of the mantelpiece is a black and white photo of a man you would hardly recognize in horn-rimmed glasses posing with his family - a slender woman with short curly hair, a young girl in Mary Janes, and a smaller boy with sandy blonde hair. Surrounding it are the memories of a lifetime gone past - a young soldier boarding a train, a happy couple on their wedding day, a family picnic on a red checkered blanket, a college graduate holding his diploma, a child's first time ice skating, and a young woman on a horse.
After a short walk to the end of the porch and back, he carefully sits back down in his chair. He lets out a soft groan and picks up his book. After a few more turns of the page, he's interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.
"Papa! We're here!" Small footsteps run across the floor.
He snaps the book shut and quickly stands, opening his arms wide to envelope the bouncing curls that were already jumping into his embrace.
