Recursion A.0.

RECURSION

A.0.

Oliver looks at his wife of thirty-two years and asks: “Are you quite sure?”

Josephine grins, the wrinkles on her round face pulled tight by a familiar smile. “Of course.”

They’re standing in front of the Hotel Recursion, an all inclusive resort, a retreat for couples to look inward. Or something like that. The brochure was filled with vague promises about communication and intimacy and strengthening bonds. Oliver and Josie didn’t really need that, their relationship was careworn and battle-tested by shared history and time. They’d built a life together, had careers in corporate law and teaching, raised children to adulthood, endured hardships and tasted triumphs, and were still comfortably together. Maybe too comfortable…

“It’s an adventure,” Josie says, taking Oliver by the hands. Josie looks up at her husband, tall and a bit heavyset with age, well upholstered she often jokes. He’s being his usual cautious uptight British self, frowning thoughtfully, balding brow pinched, mouth puckered, giving him the hint of a second chin. She squeezes his hands hard enough to hurt a little, “Don’t wuss out on me now, old boy.”

Oliver laughs, smiles down at his wife. Still a spitfire after all these years. She grins at him, her blue eyes flashing with mischief, smile lines pinched at the corners, round cheeks dimpled, face framed by a short bob of silver tousled hair. Her pear-shaped body, heavy breasts and round hips, exerts a gravity Oliver doubts he’ll ever escape. Not that he wanted to. “Never, old girl.”

Josie kisses Oliver on the lips, nipping him playfully, “Let’s go make some new memories…”

Hand-in-hand they walk through the door>>>