{Writing Prompt} A small man with thick ears and toy-like face

Edgar rode down the street on his recycled bicycle. He was a small, squat man with thick ears and a toy-like face that masked age; far better than his white comb-over, paunchy middle and bottle cap glasses.

With his flexible schedule, he had all the time in the world to do nothing. After several months of aimless retirement life, he resigned himself to playing bingo and bridge at the senior center. Every Sunday night he'd convince himself that this week would be the week that he'd get the group to start playing poker, or at least gin. And then another week passed with his nodding off, as the young woman shouted out B5 or O57, Old Joe nudging him to mark N25 or G39 with a dried kidney bean. Ho hum.

As he hiked up his pants a bit, showing another half-inch of his once-white socks and ratty pant cuffs, Elaine crowed at him in her raspy, thunderous voice, "Wait up, Ed. Can I call you Ed? It was my husband's name. It's been six years since he died. How long since your wife passed?"

Old Joe had warned him about Elaine. He didn't believe for one moment that she'd ever pay him any attention.

"Seven. Seven years, I think."

"Where's she buried?" her wrinkly face closing in on his.

"Down the street at Assumption," he mumbled, averting her eyes.

"That's where my Ed is buried. I go once a week. Every Wednesday. Want to go with me tomorrow?"

He declined. But next week when she asked he agreed, once again not making eye contact.

Before long Elaine and Edgar were coming and going together - grocery store, senior center, cemetery. He taught her how to play poker. She taught him about soap operas. She promised not to tell anyone at the senior center that he liked As the World Turns. It was their secret.