He opened the door and there she was, soaking wet and shivering.

"Sorry I've been avoiding you Winnie the Pooh"

Rain dripping off her nose.

"I'm here for the memory."

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes Pooh. There's no chance for us, other than the memory."

"I know. That's why I never did anything all the times..."

"I know. But I'm cold and wet, over 18 and here."

Warm and dry, the bed familiar and welcoming.

They clung to each other like people in need of shelter.

As they became one, she whispered in his ear "You're too old Pooh."

"You're too young."

"We're already only a memory...I know you love me."

They filled a void in their lives for a moment.

He let her create the memory, warm and nurturing. It was hers to create, theirs to remember.

"We'll always be friends."

"Liar."

"I thought it was something I should say to the person I'm making love to. It's not true."

"Christopher Robin outgrew Pooh."

"I know, that's why this was a memory before we started. It's why I avoided you."

He woke-up alone, remembering holding her long into the night.

They saw each other often after they created the memory, exchanging only glances, smiles and meaningless chat.

Christopher Robin was gone.

But the memory lingers...