There were many things I wanted to do before I died and even though I had started a list I would probably never finish it; there would always be something I wanted to, even after the list. I had sat at the café, sipping a cappuccino, enjoying the passing flow of foot traffic. I couldn't fight back the smile that formed on my lips while my headache had slowly thawed off. Three days here, with the girls, enjoying the local night sky with a bottle of wine or three; I was almost sad to have to wave them off at the airport but I guess I'd seen them soon enough.
This was something I needed to do, it was on the list. I paid for my drink before wandering through the small little crowd that had gathered around the attraction over the road. I reached in my pocket, the cold lock sat patiently. It was only the previous week I had got it back from the key cutting place; they engraved the lock with mine and his initials, the day we first met and the date of our upcoming nuptials. I wandered over the little bridge, littered with locks like the one in my pocket. I added my lock to join the others and I threw the key in the river that slept underneath; I pulled out the list from my pocket, along with my pen, and crossed out number 93 – attach a lock to a love bridge.