For as far back as she can remember, Winifred and Bill danced each night by the lake. They lived in the big house across the way and Mrs Smythe enjoyed watching this ritual as she pretended to read her book on the porch.
She had observed them grow older and slower as time passed. Their dances became less precise as their ages became more abundant.
Mrs Smythe would sit with her binoculars very discreetly. This was her happy place, watching the old dancers fall in love with each other a little bit more everyday.
When she looks out at the magnificent view from the porch, she remembers Richard and his cold callous hands. They had danced a lindyhop or four at a few tea dances but nothing like the dedication of this pair.
She doesn’t weep a tear about Richard Smythe anymore. She only enjoys the house that he has left her. And the binoculars that she treasures for comfort.