This story is exactly 750 words. There is less time invested in the creation of a 750 word story than in my other works, but the emotional investment is often the same. It’s tricky to craft a decent story with artificial limitations. In my not-so-objective view, I’ve both succeeded and failed in previous efforts. I hope this one falls on the positive side of the ledger.

“You son of a bitch. There’s no way you should look that good. How old are you?”

My voice was barely above a whisper and there was a smile on my face as I teased my oldest friend. He had to be at least one hundred ten, but he looked like he was a weathered seventy-five.

He winked and sat beside my bed. “How should we count such things, Finn? In years?”

I shrugged and closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep. The shadows were deeper when I awoke. He was still there. He smiled as I looked his way.

“You’ll look after her, right?”

There was always something about him, something solid and dependable. Alistair nodded.

“Of course. You don’t need to ask.”

He was right, but I felt so powerless. Asking was something I could do. Maybe the last thing that I could gift to my Jennifer. Alistair and his beautiful crazy sister would continue to watch over my family as they had for decades. Like many others, they had been grafted onto my little clan, becoming part of my extended family. Alistair had known me since birth, and Yekong had joined us when I was thirty.