She grabbed her backpack off the conveyor belt and threw her computer bag over her shoulder. Physically tired from the 9-hour overnight flight, but far from exhausted, she walked with purpose towards the waiting area. She was glowing, she knew it. He was there waiting, smiling. He looked different, tanner maybe, or thinner.
Had it really been 18 months since they last saw each other? His smell, his embrace, his love – nothing had changed. She fell into his arms, losing her center of gravity, melding into his strength.
They couldn’t help but stare at each other on the bus ride home – his home, and now maybe hers. They didn’t say much. There would be time for that later. They stared silently mesmerized. Their lives had just changed before their eyes, and they wanted to the freeze frame the moment into memory.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This is such a lovely piece! I love the idea that the narrator can't tell how he looked different 'tanner maybe, or thinner,' and I love the idea of losing your center of gravity. Difficult to write about love - easier to tackle hate - but you do a terrific job!
ReplyDelete