Wishful Thinking

Bellevue hospital sits off the FDR highway, just north of Alphabet City. It was the first time that Anne had been this far north of Houston Street.

It had been a long night as she sat next to Tom's bed, praying for him.

I love you so much ... Don't leave me … you hear me? Besides the crow's feet under his eyes, Tom hadn't any wrinkles. She felt old, but Tom had always made her feel youthful, and she was.

As Anne leaned to kiss Tom's cheek, her lips brushed a cold pillow. Her nose could smell freshness, but Tom does not smell like this.

He always smells of coffee and crumpets. And for the first time

she realized that Tom being there was just

wishful thinking.