Another Saturday Night
Murray crossed his legs and tapped the pen to his temple as he furrowed his brow, looking down at the crossword puzzle. A little buzz of energy zipped around his brain and instantly retrieved “Charlemagne” from his memory bank. His eyes dropped down to 16 Across and smiled warmly at the clue “To reconcile.” Reconcile was a word that often eluded Murray and force him to settle for less eloquent language, or completely restructure a sentence if a synonym could not be found. The tangent sent him into a fleeting daydream which was interrupted by the announcement of suppertime over the speakers. He set the puzzle in his lap and began rolling his wheelchair to the dining hall, hoping for Salisbury steak.