The span of their lives ran together.

Born within minutes of each other in the same city, they attended different schools separated by only one block, divided more by religious difference than geography.

They found each other through mutual friends in their teenage years, growing closer with every trip to the park, visit to the cinema or night of partying.

Marriage inevitably followed, children did not. They were content on their own together.

The sweep of history couldn’t separate them. Wars, disasters, recessions: they lived through it all.

Retirement brought even more shared time with one another, well-earned holidays and a slower pace.

Only time could part them.

He remembered when she looked at him through confused eyes and asked him who he was.

He waited until the doctor had finished his rounds on the ward. He gave her one last kiss on her forehead and watched her shallow breathing. He collected a cup of water and poured the pills into his hand.

‘Goodbye,’ he said sweetly, patting her arm. He swallowed the pills in one gulp, then picked up the pillow and held it over her face.

They were found the next morning, together as always, for eternity.

This is a response to the #writephoto Prompt –  Span curated over at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. Click on the link to read other stories inspired by the image.