Not a memory.
Clear blue was tainted with a pinch of sun red. Moment by moment the sky was turning pinker like a crystal glass when splashed with rosé. Sun’s warmth was fading away by bursts of cold autumn breezes. Small grass sparkling with a smile a little wet from the sprinklers an hour ago. We layed in it. She was half on my chest else her newly bought jacket would be scarred by small pointy grass. We lay there watching the hour paint the sky with every colour possible with moments of giggles and kisses.
We loved nights like these, peaceful and refreshing. Time would fly by in her arms, hours seemed like seconds. There was some magical scent in this autumn breeze, I never believed it before her but it made sense when she said it with a sweet smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. the soft grass occasionally made me feel like I was floating. Like a feather, all alone, free, unrestricted to take flight in any direction.
As we lay there for hours at end, I pondered, my fascination doesn’t end to the grass or the sky or the brisk air freezing my earlobes. It was partially her too. The air is partially colluded with her perfume, my sunset view is partially restricted by her hair. The sun is flashing me constantly through her hair, hair that took two hours to be perfect before we came out here. To be immaculate in those sunset pictures she wanted. We ditched the photos and laid here agreeing we would come back for them the next day.
It’s been three years and the sunset photos are yet to come and so is she.
“Get off that rail.” commanded a young man.
“It took me this long to drive down this road and have the courage to stand here. Here was our last memory before she became a spirit. “
“I’ll leave when I’m done talking to her” I said with a snare and turned my back to the flashing lights.