ONE THING

‘I’m glad you came,’ she said.
Barely able to stand my legs full with memories of her I said, 'Okay.'
We looked down from the top of the glass house where I lived most of the time.
‘Who’s that?’ she said pointing at the figure below.
I cleared my throat, 'That's her.'
We kneeled down, our fingers touching as they hovered like damson flies over a pond.
‘You were good once,’ she said and showed me the photograph of the young boy I used to be.
‘I wouldn’t change anything,’ I said. ‘Because if you change one thing…’