On a quiet Sunday evening, Bert and Edna, married fifty-five years, sat on their porch swing sipping tea and watching squirrels fight over a Cheeto. “Bert,” Edna said suddenly, “let’s talk about our bucket lists.” “At eighty-seven?” Bert grumbled. “If I wake up remembering where my pants are, that’s a win.” Edna laughed. “No, something we’ve always wanted to do.”...
