Only 15 Minutes

In a dimly lit arcade lined with aging machines and fading neon lights, a husband and wife arrive on the same day without planning to meet. They insert a 15-Minute Coin. The screen comes alive. What appears is not a game, but the final memory of their late child. For fifteen uninterrupted minutes, the moment they have both tried to avoid plays before them. Guilt, blame, and grief that have long remained frozen begin to thaw beneath the constant hum of the machines. When the arcade screen fades back to black, something has shifted. For the first time since their loss, they stand not as two people accusing each other, but as two parents willing to face their sorrow together. Because sometimes fifteen minutes are enough to change the way we remember. Not to turn back time, but to let love endure within it.