Published May 25, 2012 by rochellewisoff

This is truly habit forming. Here’s my weekly installment for Friday Fictioneers. Thank you Madison Woods!

Golden arches and a drive-through replaced the baroque beacon on the hill. The French restaurant where we often rendezvoused is gone.

At our special table we shared crème brulée, class notes and anecdotes.
Our careers left no room for marriage. He went his way and I went mine.

Two years later the embossed invitation came. Birth announcements and commencement notices followed me around the world.

When I read his wife’s obituary I wept.

Thirty summers passed. I reminisce in McDonald’s parking lot. Someone taps my windshield.

Ink-black hair turned bone-white, Bordeaux in hand, he grins. “You saved our table.”

26 comments on “RENDEZVOUS

  • I like this. I have a good image of the couple, separated by circumstances, choices made, and reunited by another circumstance in death. I have mine ready too to post (my third and exactly 100 words again.) So, is a fun exercise to do and good practice, I agree. I posted a special tribute (Leaving Behind a Legacy) to my twin grandchildren yesterday on my blog and wanted them to see it on the first page before posting my Friday Fictioneers story. I have posted up five chapters of my novel and plan to do more this next week, but have been so busy around here getting ready for our grandchildren's graduation, babysitting my littlest granddaughter and attending other graduation parties. Busy time of the year.


  • Here I go again – first comment never appeared. A wistful story of life interfering with life, love and longing. Reads like a poem; "we shared crème brulée, class notes and anecdotes" reads like the line of a song. Very nicely written, as usual.Reminds me of Mr and Mrs Smith, Alfred Hitchcock's only comedy, starring Robert Montgomery and Carole Lombard, where they try to recapture their romantic first date in the same place. Re: Moth invasions. They do happen. When I lived in Northern California, all the windows of our cabin would be solidly covered by moths at night, trying to get to the light inside.


  • Beautifully written. For any of your readers interest in mine here's the link


  • Well done, Rochelle. Wonder how many carry the same dream or desire…to renew and rekindle a lost love? And how many succeed. If mine suddenly walked up to me, I think I would drop dead on the spot. Btw, you didn't comment on mine last week. Here's my take this week…


  • This is a beautiful little story, Rochelle. I love the ink-black hair turned bone-white (at least he still had hair). It makes me wonder what happens next? Thanks for reading & commenting on mine.


  • This is a beautiful little story, Rochelle. I love the ink-black hair turned bone-white (at least he still had hair). It makes me wonder what happens next? Thanks for reading & commenting on mine.


  • Dear Rochelle,

    I regret missing this when you first wrote it, but better late than never, right?

    This is a beautiful tale of the enduring nature of love and friendship that you managed to shoehorn into place with 100 perfectly chosen words.

    Going back to the future now to encourage you re the pull my finger prompt.




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