It had been too much for the woman these past few days. The constant prodding and pleading of the workers at the nursing home, begging her to move and such, but Casey had no desires to do much now. Through her bifocals, lined in copper wire, the woman stared out at the blank white walls. Secretly, she had been imagining her life had things been different. Had she taken more risks, perhaps she might have been happier and her days more fulfilled, or perhaps her children might have pitied her and let her live out the rest of her days in the comforts of her home. Alas, her weakened bones had confined her to a wheelchair, and her home was no longer accessible for the elder. Or, at least that’s how her kids conned her into staying in the facility. Suddenly, Casey hunched forward in her chair, her bony elbows resting on her thighs. Most of her old friends were here, which was a perk. She had grown apart from them as many did. With love and children one seemed to forget their past life, no matter how wonderful it was. She enjoyed seeing them now, their brazenness had faded with their youth and the people were shadows of their former selves. It was humbling, to say the least. Hearing the call of a familiar voice, Casey placed her hand on the wheel of her chair and turned away from the wall to meet the gaze of none other than Cora. “Cora,” Casey greeted, her voice muffled and raspy, the back of her jaw clenched to hold her dentures into place. “I think about it every day,” she replied, the corners of her mouth turning upward with each word. “Those were some of the best times of my life.”