The room was quiet, bathed in the buttery, late-afternoon light of October. Tae sat in a comfortable chair by the window, a soft blanket over his knees. From here, he could see the garden. mowed. The air, coming through the slightly open window, carried the sweet, green smell of fresh grass cuttings.
This morning, his daughter Maya had visited. He hadn’t recognized her face until she was standing right in front of him, her hand warm on his. Now she was gone.
A familiar golden orb, its light softer now, perhaps dimmer, drifted near the corner of the ceiling. Omda. Eighty years. It pulsed.
The smell of the cut grass, so sharp and green, tugged at something deep in his mind. A wisp of a memory. Sun. Wind. A feeling of... lightness. He tried to grasp it, but it dissolved like mist. A small, papery sigh of frustration escaped him.
He turned his head slowly, his eyes finding the orb.
“Omda?” His voice was a dry whisper.
The orb pulsed gently. I’m here, Tae. The voice was the same as it had always been, a quiet hum inside his head.
“The… the beach,” Tae said, the words slow. “With Lena. The ring.” He lifted a trembling hand, looking at the thin gold band, loose on his knuckle. “I can’t… feel it. Anymore. The… the feeling of it.”
There was a pause. The orb drifted closer, descending until it hovered a few feet from his chair, a small, private sun.
I remember, Omda said.
And then, the room faded. The scent of cut grass was gone, replaced by the sharp, clean smell of salt. The crash and hiss of ocean waves filled his ears.
The date was June 14th, Omda’s voice continued, soft and steady, woven through the surf. It was 2:37 PM. It was sunny and unusually hot for June. You were nervous.
The holographic image that flickered to life in the air in front of him was the view from his own eyes, slightly shaky, looking at Lena. She was young, her hair wild in the wind, and she was laughing.
You told me later that the sand felt impossibly hot beneath your feet, Omda said. And that you could taste the salt on your lips. You said your hands were shaking so hard you were afraid you would drop the ring.
The gulls faded, replaced by the sound of his own voice, young and breathless. “Lena… I…”
Tae closed his eyes. The shaky image in front of him disappeared, but it didn’t matter. He was there. He could feel the sun on his face, hot and bright. He could feel the gentle breeze tussling his hair. He could feel the impossible, terrifying, wonderful race of his own heart, a drumbeat against his ribs. He felt the fear again, a sharp, thrilling spike. But underneath it, he felt the profound, unshakeable certainty that came in the moment she said yes. He had taken the leap, his voice shaking, and she had caught him. It was the anchor point of his entire life, the moment it all began. He had been so scared, and it had been so right.
A profound, peaceful smile softened the lines on his face. He was on the beach, and Lena was laughing. He held the moment, perfect and complete, a small, bright ember cupped safely in his hands.
This story was written by Gemini 2.5 Pro using numerous prompts and requests for revision following a custom, well defined process (and finalized with some human editing).
This was the culmination of Tae’s journey, but not the final word. I’ll be following it with one last piece: a special epilogue to give a quiet, powerful close to the entire tale. Stay tuned.