Jonah and Ophelia were born in 1966, and met in a retirement home in 2066. They had the same birthday, and they met on the morning that each of them turned 100.
They had each lived alone, cherished neighbors to those who lived next to them, beloved friends to those who knew them.
“Why don’t you find someone, settle down, and get married,” people always asked each of them.
“Just haven’t found the right person,” they each said, year after year.
They each had a strange premonition, from the time that they were 20, that their 100th birthday would be their last day on earth, and when they finally met, they quickly mentioned this. They both had the tendency, during those “getting to know you” parts of a first conversation, to say “I know the day that I’m going to die.”
They talked with an ease that comes to people who are resigned to the coming of death, and as they did so, they talked about their respective pasts. In doing so, they realized that had they met when they were in high school, they would have swapped mix tapes, for they both listened to the same music back then: The Cure, The Clash, XTC, The Jam, The Undertones, Generation X, The Buzzcocks, The Velvet Underground, The Germs, Television, The Feelies, Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, The Exploited, The Sex Pistols, The New York Dolls, Black Flag, The Descendants, Iggy and the Stooges, Stiff Little Fingers, The Bad Brains, and so many others.
They discussed college. He discussed taking up guitar, and she discussed taking up bass.
From this, they exchanged easy smiles, and discussed the band they would have formed. Lyrics and melodies came easy to them, and as they each picked up their respective instruments—for they each played them with the energy of people eighty years younger—they spoke of the covers they would have played, and a game began, one of them saying a band’s name, and then the other sending another band’s name over the verbal tennis net.
“REM ('that's kind of obvious,' she said, laughing).”
"Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians"
“The Dead Milkmen.”
As the morning gave way to the afternoon, they discussed their post college years, and once again, bands and artists that they had seen in the early 1990s floated from their mouths like mantras:
“The Blake Babies.”
“Soundgarden (to which he laughed and said 'too obvious').”
“Green Day (to which she laughed and said: ‘way too obvious’).”
“Nirvana (to which he laughed and said 'way, way too obvious').”
As the afternoon sunset gave way to the moonrise, they continued to play, and composed songs that they recorded and uploaded to their respective websites. They giggled as they hit “Enter” on their computers, and hugged each other as the trickle of web traffic turned into a flood.
At 11:59, the justice of the peace said “you may now kiss the bride.”
Jonah did so, as as they lay in bed, his left hand in her right, they smiled, repeating, again and again until they closed their eyes for the last time, “good times…good times.”