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"Oh," she uttered. With wrinkled tiny hands, she placed her spectacles carefully on the bridge of her nose, and set aside the teacup she drank from. "You must be here for me."

"I have heard so much about you," she smiled serenely. "My granddaughter has been talking so much about you. She is rather in love with you, I dare say." The old lady laughed softly.

"Come, join me." She patted the empty seat beside her, "Pardon an old lady, but you're awfully tall."

The genie frowned in confusion. She was not acting like the past masters he had served. Was it because of her age? Perhaps he spoke too soft.

"MY DOMAIN IS TIME," He boomed. "YOU HAVE---"

"Yes, yes, three decisions to make." She bobbed her head. "I may be a great-grandmother, but I am not deaf yet, young man."

Young man? In his years of existence, not once did any person called him young. He was old, as old as Life.

"It's rather difficult to talk when you're standing. Be a dear and sit?" A question that was without a doubt, an order.

So he sat.

"Now," the great-grandmother leaned closer, "How do you find my granddaughter?"

He was puzzled. He never chose his masters. It was them who found him.

"Oh, silly question! It was love at first sight, I heard."

She stared straight through him, a blissful smile on her face. "Like Harold and I."

Time passed without a word, as she sat there with happiness in her eyes, reliving her memories.

He made himself comfortable on the chair and snapped his fingers. A teacup appeared. He drank. His domain was time. He could wait. Time was everything he had.

It had been a while since he had this peace outside. Soft, peaceful silence. How many masters had he went through since his creation. How many demands he had to fufill.

To accompany a person with no demands yet. . .

She jerked. He spilled the drink.

"Deary! How terrible of me to forget about you!" She apologised furiously. "We'll get your clothes dried. I think you can fit Harold's clothes. He. . . he would love to see his clothes used again."

He nodded his head slowly, and stood up; the remainder of the water passing through his body and staining the seat.

"Let me take it for you. Just give me a minute . . ." She took the walking stick beside her chair, and started to walk into the room beside.

Minutes passed.

And passed.

Had she not found the clothes?

It was not that he needed them. His body took substance whenever he wanted to. He was just curious to her reaction, a reaction he had not seen for so very long.

He strode into the same room she entered. She was seated on the bed now, the clothes -- Harold's clothes -- on her lap.

"Oh. Hello, you must be here for me." She smiled at him expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

It ... appeared she had forgotten their meeting. He had heard of this before, this sickness that consumed memories and left nothing behind -- but never had he witnessed it. His masters all passed away before that. DressAfford wedding wears tips with affordable price

He kneeled in front of her. "My domain is Time. Instead of Three Wishes, you get Three Decisions. Go back and choose again." Gently, he held both her hands.

"Go back? Silly boy," she shook her head. "I've lived my life to the fullest. What is there to change?"

She brushed her fingertips against the clothes. "I wouldn't change it for the world."

A bell chimed.

She looked behind him. "There he is." Her eyes shone with tears. "You're finally here."

She withdrew her soft hands from his, and cupped his face. "Thank you for the offer," -- a warm smile -- "But I have everything I want now."

She slowly got up from the bed, setting aside the clothes.

He reached out for the walking stick on the left.

She shook her head. "There's no need for that where I'm heading, sweet child." She patted his head and walked passed him.

She joined another person standing at the doorway; the backlight too bright for him to distinguish the features.

They hugged.

They kissed.

And they disappeared.

Thank you, a man's and woman's voice whispered.

Farewell, he thought.