An old couple meet at a coffee shop.

“Harry! How are you doing?!”

“Hilda! I’m doing well.”

They hug and Harry pulls Hilda’s seat out for her, removing his hat and putting it on the table.

“Can I get you something?” Hilda asks.

“Just my usual two cents,” Harry smiles, the love obvious in his eyes.

The old woman calls out for two coffees and a slice of bitter lemon cake for both of them. They sit in rapturous conversation, quietly laughing with one another.

“I love how they always seem like they’re meeting each other for the first time,” I remark.

“They are, honey, they have dementia.”