What a thing time is. Made up of so many things, things that could have been, should have been, and might have been. There are missed moments, moments that are taken advantage of, and moments purposely created. Each of these things dictates so much and any of it can only really be fully reflected on when time is coming close to an end.

Should we have zigged when we could have zagged? Perhaps it is not good to ponder upon such things. What is done, is done. Perhaps it is best to meet life head on, grab the bull by the horn, and live life to the fullest and not only meet but greet whatever may come your way.

Funny how weather can so often reflect a mood. For a difficult time has come, a phone call has been made, and there is nothing left now then to wait and remember what once was. A soft falling rain, with drops gathering into flowing streams on the outside of the window crying tears of melancholy. Such a sight makes it all the easier to lose oneself in thought and memory.

***

It is June 3rd, 1947, a special evening for a certain Margerie Tate, a special evening that could have been as ordinary as any other if certain opportunities had gone a little differently. There had been a soft rainfall that evening too. Margerie attends a local dance having arrived along with her best friend Liz. The girls had been dropped off by Bill, Liz's father, who felt uneasy in requesting that the girls look out for one another. He'd rather be a chaperone though there is a need to leave some things be. The girls are growing up, though time is currently resides in a place where a certain respect is key, at least for the most part..

Such a thing is adhered to, and a kind of disregard comes almost right away when Liz points out the presence of a certain Bernard Smith. The girls are hardly in the door when this occurs. Margerie questions Liz and when Margerie's attention is directed so, Margerie takes a step back. It is him, Bernard Smith is here, she knew this would be so, sure wasn't this the point of all her efforts on this day prior to this point, though with the fact that this moment is real ... well, it has caught her in a way she didn't expect.

There are moments in life that are just meant to be, and Margerie was sure that this was one of them, as this one moment physically grabbed her to the point with which she attempted to play it cool. Yeah, she had caught Bernard's eye in the instant such a moment caught her. He must have understood it, for it made him smile. Surely this is when destiny converges ...

Twenty minutes had passed, then twenty became thirty and nothing of note had occurred.

'I'm not imagining things, am I?' Margerie queries Liz. 'He did notice me when we arrived ...?'

'He surely did ...'

'Then what's taking him so long?'

'It's early yet. Besides, perhaps he is nervous. Perhaps he would prefer to wait until we weren't standing next to one another ...'

If this were true, and if the universe really does conspire to create an event, then one was coming within this one. Before Liz could finish her sentence, a young man approached her and asked as to if she could accompany him to the dance floor. She immediately accepted his proposal. The two ladies smiled at one another, and Liz was gone.

So, if Bernard was cherry picking his moment, surely, he need not wait any longer. They catch one another's eyes. He is aware she is now alone. Still, he waits. And she cannot understand it. It is not that she thinks highly of herself, if anything she leans more to the opposite train of thought and of course, doubts begin to spin. Does he think she is not good enough for him? Oh, how she could almost throttle him.

Liz is dancing with her partner and Margerie is happy for her, she is also envious and is almost disgusted at herself for feeling this way. Will Margerie get her own moment on this evening?

Bernard begins to make a move. This is it; Margerie is sure of it. Finally, it is going to happen ... only it doesn't. They see one another, is that what throws him off? Has he got a sudden case of cold feet?' He stops dead, awkwardly trying to look anywhere but at a certain young lady.

Never being one to conform to what may be expected of her, or of any lady of the day, Liz takes the lead. She directs her dance partner to exactly where she wants him to go, and this results in Bernard getting an ever so gentle nudge. Apologies are offered as one of the two who had gently collided has no idea of what had only just happened.

Yeah, Bernard has got the message, loud and clear. He now moves with determination though again something inside holds him back. He won't allow it this time. He pushes on. It is difficult to look the young lady in the eyes. It is difficult to remain still, and the position from which he came suddenly looks good. No, he fought to get here, he cannot waste his moment.

'Would you ...' he is extremely fidgety. 'I mean ... em ... can I have ...?'

'... this dance?' she says, completing his question for him.

Fidgeting stops, breathing becomes more structured, and eyes meet. 'Yes ... dance. Would you like to dance?' ... he holds out his right hand and she takes it.

'I would love to ...'

And the rest, as they say, is history.

A moment of reverie comes to an end and Margerie hears a voice speak.

'Mrs. Smith?'

'Oh' she says not wanting to return to the present. 'You know, it doesn't really seem all that long ago when this house was as lively as any other. Christmas and Halloween, my favourite times of year. For years it was too after our Helen got married, for she often returned, though, it has been ever so quiet since Bernard died ...'

'Sorry to hear that ma'am ...'

She is at the door to the home she has lived in for many years, throwing a final gaze at the emptiness of it. She will be cared for in a home away from home, until it is time for her to depart this world. But before that, she will get at least one more trip down memory lane, she asks for a turn to be made along with a brief stop. There now is a bakery in the spot where a dance hall from once upon a time used to be.

When six evenings come to pass, it will be time to sleep for one final time ...