Oh, what grand days they had been!

She arthritic fingers clumsily grasped the handbag’s strap. She opened the doors and looked around, smartening her dress. SHe reached over and removed her cane from the front footwell, and leaning on it for support, she hobbled around the car, locking the doors behind her, before putting the keys into her handbag. You never knew with these young people nowadays!

She shuffled over to the parking meter and looked for the prices through her bifocal lenses. A quarter for one hour. She fumbled with the bag’s zip and removed her purse. Finding a quarter in the change pocket, she pulled it out and was preparing to drop it into the meter when her hands let it drop. She looked for another quarter. She should really pick it up, but her back was not up to the task. This quarter uwas sucessfully inserted into the machine, and turning on her heel, she shambled off, bent double, in the direction of the elegant Art Deco building. It was a senior citezen’s dance – and her man friend was waiting, holding the door open.