Here's a flash fiction (100 words or less) story I wrote.
“I thought we’d grow old together. I haven’t been the same since the accident.”
“You’re still my beautiful mate.”
“You don’t mind doing the things I used to do?”
“No. You don’t mind my dominance in our relationship now?”
“You never complained about my dominance before.”
“Because I always thought of you as my mirror.”
“Look at me now. Mangled, bent, broken. Old beyond my years.”
“I’ll be here for you until the end.”
Left hand stroked the knotted stubs of what remained of right hand’s fingers. Right hand snuggled under left’s warm palm. They sat together in the lap.
