In the Meadow

There you were, sitting indian style on the heart of the seemingly boundless meadow.

As I drew nearer, you closed the book positioned on your lap.

“Sensed me?”, my mind asked, but I continued approaching.

I stiffened the moment you turned your head towards me. I noticed the all-familiar curve appearing upon your face, the smile I’ve fallen in love with. So I forced mine.

You nodded at me to draw closer. I did.

As I sat down, I was able to get a whiff of the winds, which smelled of your perfume, “You still have not changed.”

“While you still have not forgotten,” you retorted.

We looked at each other, grinned, and sent out a laugh.

And then the atmosphere grew pensive again. Before I knew it, you were already holding my hand.

It was magic. The scene was picturesque, just like in the movies. Two lovers holding each other’s hand, alone in the heart of the universe.

The gentle winds blowed.

The sky turned red as the sun prepared to set.