The scent of lavender was overpowering. A scent he was quite familiar with. She had always worn the same perfume even when he had first met her. She was 45 years old now, and looked just as charming as she had when he fell in love with her. He had always enjoyed looking at her while she continued with her work. He looked at her as she went about putting her book shelf in order. He smiled when she couldn’t reach the top shelf, but of course, she was a trifle short, with deep brown eyes and dark brown hair which reached a little over her waist. He stared as her visage cracked. The same smile that had entranced him from such a long time. He smiled at his luck.
Short-sighted, the word replayed in his mind. He was never good enough. It was still fresh in his memory, the constant insults, belittling and slights.
He would exact his revenge.