Centenarian Love Transcendence E3

Age does not define beauty.
Do you make your loved one laugh?
Do you note their unique qualities?
Embrace who they are.

She slowly rotates, gazing up at her array of billboards, a grin creeping across her face with a heart hammering against her chest.

A group of teenage girls scuttles past her, giggling. They pause before a reflective window and take a photo of themselves. “Don’t we look good?” one says.

“I’m just glad people seem to appreciate youth again,” another says. “As I don’t want to wish my life away just to appear beautiful. I want people to see all of my qualities. My intelligence. My compassion. My talents.”

Kacey smiles at the ground. Her heart swells. She crosses the square, her coffee burning in her hand. With stilettos, she climbs into the elevator, and it shoots her into the penthouse LYB office. As she steps out onto her floor, the ladies swarm her like buzzards to a corpse.

“Our posters are all over Times Square!” Siobhan says with a squeal.

“People are reading them,” Emily says, pointing down into the square. Dozens of people glance up at the poster as they cut through the throngs.

Kacey grips that cold metal railing, her shoulders drooping, loneliness creeping around her like a shadow, like fog on a winter’s morning. She sucks in a harsh breath. “Have we noticed any changes? Any consequences in our circles?”

“I’m leaving my husband,” Siobhan says, her cheeks turning pink. “He’s only in his fifties. A lovely man. But his personality is a little too… dry for me. He doesn’t make me laugh. Nor does he laugh at my jokes, and I’m funny!”

Emily sticks her hand in the air. “My grandmother has shifted away from her youthful decisions. She is approaching 100 years old and wants to focus on growing and living in the moment.”

Kacey’s stomach twists and she touches her empty womb, her heart crumbling. “I’m happy for you both.”

Siobhan’s chair squeals against the tiles as she pushes it back. “Are you happy, Kacey?” she asks, resting her head on Kacey’s shoulder.

Kacey blinks away the prickling tears. “I think… I am lonely.”

“You have us,” Siobhan says. “I know it isn’t the same as a loving partner. But we are here for you.”

That evening, as the sun washes the city in fiery hues, Kacey unlocks her apartment. She forces herself to unclench her jaw and school her face into a pleasant smile for her husband.

Ethan perches on the couch, overlooking the view of the vibrant park. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat. “That I don’t entirely trust that you love me.”

Kacey opens her mouth to protest but he continues.

“Our marriage sparked from nothing more than a publicity stunt. I am simply an exhibition for you to broadcast, to boost your business in the market.”

“I do care for you, Ethan,” she says, her hands clenching.

“I’m sure you do. But I want a relationship based on connection, on friendship.” He stands, plucking his already-packed duffle bag from the floor, and slinging it over his shoulder. “I need to seek an authentic connection with someone. Nevertheless, I’d rather be forever single than spend the rest of my life as a tool in your business.”

Ethan’s shoes clack against the floorboards as he stalks out of the apartment and down the stairs, leaving Kacey standing in the living room, stiff as stone.

Aligning Ages

A couple of months later, Ethan meets a lady similar to his age at a café. “I’m glad we could meet for a second date,” he says, his heart thumping, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

This lady, with tracks of wisdom on her face, purses her violet lips. She’s wearing tight clothing that highlights her body and holds her chin high. As poised as a goddess. “I like you, Ethan,” she says, her voice smooth as honey. “But you… are a little too old for my interests. I am seeking a man at least 20 years your junior. He can provide me with what I want. Energy. Spirit. Children.”

His heart sinks into the pits of his guts, and he gulps. “But… I thought we had a connection on our first date.”

She pulls out her lipstick and applies another layer, hardly batting an eye. “We did. You are sweet. And you made me laugh. I wanted to give you the respect you deserve and tell you my true interests in person. It’s the least you deserve.” Her freckled hand slides across the table, grazing his. “I hope you find a match that sets your soul on fire.”

Then she flees the café, her perfume coiling around Ethan’s head, teasing him like a cat with a mouse. Her steampunk clothing merges with the throngs outside, and she blends in. Ethan sits in silence for a few beats, his head spinning.

Finally, he plucks himself up, and treads home, single, and shrouded in a cloak of loneliness.

He makes his way to the hotel room he’s been staying in while he tries to find his apartment. As he perches by the window from the second floor, watching the people pass by and the orange-red sun sink, he spots an array of couples of various age differences.

With a roll of his eyes, he realizes that, as much as he holds resentment in his heart for Kacey, she and the LYB have propelled balanced May-December couples into mainstream society.

He chuckles and takes a glug of his bourbon. It tastes bitter, like the loneliness swallowing him whole.

Eternal Radiance

It wasn’t until the 19th century that the world’s life expectancy breached 40 years. In the 22nd century, the age of desirability ebbs and flows. With the aid of cosmetic and technological advancements, women continue to preserve their desirability as they approach the extraordinary age of 150 in this new era.

Both younger and older women manifest attractive qualities to potential suitors. Society as a whole learns to cherish the diverse wisdom, grace, and experience that come with age while embracing the boundless potential found in the energy of diverse youth.

The End

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