The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife

by Anna Johnston

“Achoo!” Dad roared, covering his nose. If there was a competition for who could sneeze the loudest, her dad would be world champ for sure. His sneezes could even set off the car alarm.

“Well, I guess you can’t always rely on feeling in love. That comes and goes. It’s a decision, too, you know. You have to look after it. The more you can make the other person feel loved, fill their tank as it were, the more they have in their reserve to make you feel loved. It’s a cycle. I used to try and plan little surprises when I could if ever things were getting stale.”

Fred stifled a laugh as a memory of answering the front door naked to surprise Dawn appeared. Unfortunately, she’d been running late from work—but at least no more Jehovah’s Witnesses had visited them again after that.

Ah, young love. There was nothing better. Except, perhaps, for old love—love of fifty years. But you had to start somewhere.