He was stooped with age. His dark eyes fit a familiar face. Someone from my childhood?

I caught his glance, we nodded… an old friend perhaps.

“Dinner’s ready,” a nurse says touching my shoulder. 

“May invite someone,” I ask.

”Of course, but who?” she wonders.

“Over there by that nurse,” I point. 

She looks…then squeezes my hand and tells me, “Sweetie, those are our reflections in the mirrored wall.” 

My confusion happens a lot they tell me. Memories slip away, mercifully forgotten before they’re missed. But for now, in this singular moment, I think, that at least in my heart—I still remember me.

(101words.org)

A five-year-old boy, wearing clothes too small—sits on a chair fidgeting, clutching a paper sack containing everything he owns.

With a mighty whoosh, a billowing cape fills the doorway. A superhero enters and a social worker shows him the child’s file…filled with documented betrayals and innocence lost.

Walking over to the chair, he knelt and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. With a steely resolve he promised, “Son, no one will hurt you again. I’m your dad now.” Then he welcomed him into his arms with a kiss and a hug.

“Let’s go meet your mom, son—she’s a super woman,” he said with a wink. “She’s baking you some cookies.”

This is how I had always dreamed of finding a mom and dad.
Turns out, this time, it wasn’t just a dream.

(101words.org)