Love is a dangerous emotion.
Lincoln Verne could readily testify to that fact.
Born in 1919 on March 3rd, Lincoln was undeniably the most handsome man in Cross. In addition to his good looks, Lincoln was genuinely pleasant and mild-mannered. He had literally given the shirt off his back to a man in need, and he would cheerfully do so again.
It was with some disappointment, then, that the young ladies – and some of the older ones – received the news that Lincoln had found himself a beau. Who the mysterious woman was no one knew, all they did know was that he was completely and utterly enamored with her.
At the end of January 1940, Lincoln began preparations. He intended to propose to his beloved on her birthday, February 14th. He purchased a ring and a gold necklace to celebrate her birthday.
On February 14th, he greeted the early morning train from Boston, where a young woman, clad all in white, walked arm and arm with him to his small apartment above Von Epp’s Books.
Shortly after lunch, the young woman was seen leaving the building and returning to the train station.
Once the train had departed, several customers and one of the clerks in Von Epp’s heard a moaning sound from Lincoln’s rooms. Concerned, they went up the back stairs and found the doorway open.
Lincoln was at his table, the gifts spread out before him, and a look of horror on his face.
Not only had she refused his proposal, but she had stolen his youth.
According to Lincoln, she had said no, and then gave him a conciliatory kiss. When their lips met, he felt his energy drain from him, and within minutes he was left exhausted and defeated.
When Lincoln was later examined by the doctor, that esteemed physician stated that Lincoln was no longer a youth of 20, but an old man of at least 92.
Lincoln lived long enough to see his 22nd birthday, and a beautiful young woman in white attended the burial.
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