I remember there was a breeze. I’m not sure if it was warm breeze on a cool day or a cool breeze on a warm day, but it was refreshing. It was nice.
There was sun too. And clouds. The fluffy white clouds with the grey bottoms, just so you knew they weren’t there just to be pretty. They could mean business if they had to. But that day, they were just pretty.
We were walking. There was grass definitely. Were we on a sidewalk? There were trees. And I think there was a pond, but I feel like I’m just making that up. In my mind there were two white swans. Picture perfect. That stuff doesn’t really happen.
The trees must have been weeping willows. Through the bright perfection of the day, there was a sort of sorrowful Victorianism to the whole scene.
We were late. And hurrying. We were concerned; well, she was concerned. And then suddenly, she realized it didn’t matter anymore. Late was late.
And then she turned and smiled at me.
And that was all I needed.