He caught sight of her from a distance. As she lay there in the summer grass something silver glinted in her hand. It had been four years since he had last seen her face.
She will be almost thirty, he thought as he hesitantly made his way towards her. We might have been happily married by now. We might have had kids even… two little girls— just like they had talked about. The lingering pain of much regret was only half-soothed by this new image of her lounging on the clifftop.
* * *
The soft pad of footsteps in the grass alerted her to someone drawing near, and, in an instant, hearts fell into stomachs as they caught each other’s scent on the air: white peony and geranium exchanged for musk and warm spices. He cleared his throat as he sat down beside her. Continue reading “Torching Daisies [I/II]”