"It had set into a rhythm. A long chat after work. Lazing in the room. Settling with a cup of food and her. They'd talk. Endlessly. About everything. Sometimes about nothing. It was a ritual. It meant something. Or so he thought.
But the more deep the waters got, the more the swimmer's life is tossed into the mercy of the sea. And thus one day, when all this depth of sharing and caring and meaning grew over bearing, he panicked and ran.
Grandma looked up from The children's tale book of the big bad world. The kids looked at her with eyes full of pained anticipation.
She sighed. Then smiled. And continued to read.