[ WP ] A plain metal band ( ring ) lay on your finger . It 's purpose and origins a mystery to all , except it 's creator .

I gazed deeply into the album. Inside was the man who had put this silvery bond upon my hand. Perhaps I could ask Her. 
 Every week she came to visit. Thursday at 6:00 every time, she arrived with her scrapbook. We would sit and look through the album and she would question me. It has been a month now and the best I can do still is to shake my head. 
 `` Why is this ring on my hand?'' I inquired. 
 `` No one knows...'' She let out a sigh, `` Do you still not remember what I have shown you?'' she asked. 
 `` I do know now, but I suppose that is learning, not recalling.'' 
 `` Well I best be going now.'' She got up to leave but I called out, `` Wait. I have one more question.'' 
 `` Yes?'' 
 `` Who made this ring? It's a perfect fit. Was it someone close to me?'' 
 `` You would n't know would you? If only you could remember,'' her eyes welling with tears, `` It was you Dad.''
