Years later, the couple is different in some terribly profound way. Maybe they have grown old and begun to look like one another. Or maybe they have been divorced and haven't spoken in months or years except through the kids, who they spoil and use against their former lover, the kids now broken, needing therapy again. Or an even more pleasurable and exciting idea, maybe they are falling back in love after a separation of some time, after a divorce. Or they have lived out their days in a harmony that only exists in old movies; the type of perfection that people today no longer think is possible until they see a human interest piece on 20/20 or something about a couple celebrating their 75th. These people always live in a small town, surrounded by cattle and friends and family, not buildings and trains or smog and coffee shops, and have names like Harold and Josephine.
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I like this, Marc. Interesting angle. It feels very Lydia Davis-ish.