Today’s sin is lust.
The flight attendant handed him his cane and he shuffled off the airplane. She waited in the terminal, he knew. Would he look the same? After all these years, would she see the hunched old man hobbling up the walkway with his cane or the soldier she’d welcomed home decades ago?
The walkway ended. Few people waited in the terminal. He’d taken so long that most had already cleared out. He scanned, but he did not see the girl with the flower-print dress and the dark curls.
She found him first. Her smile creased her face, made all the years bend and fold like a mask obscuring the girl who made his blood rush hotly. He saw her through the mask and when she smiled back, he knew she saw him without the cane or the hunch or the spots of age. After all those years, they blushed.