He placed her gently on the weather-beaten Adidas lounged, fumbling over her with a light blanket.
"Leave off with that and hold me, man. We've too little time left and I'll not see it wasted."
At length, he turned to her and spoke softly. "And have ye any regrets of our time together, lass?"
She thought of her promising art career abandoned to follow her husband and his dreams and weighed it against 37 years of the unwavering, constant devotion of her Robert.
As the sunset faded, with her final breath, she whispered, "Not a one, lad...not a one."
This story was written for BlogFlash2012 Day 7: Sunset