A quiet afternoon. Two lovers drift into woods nearby.
Intermittent giggling echoes through trees as they run on, as if to escape the prying eyes of the sun searching through trees swaying in the late Friday afternoon winds.
It looked dangerous from outside. Now that they were inside the jungle, they saw things differently. The air was cooler, the thick pad of leaves beneath them soft and welcoming.
The impression of a united forest with trees within hugging tightly onto one another gave way to wide distances between trees, contributing to the wonder they were now beholding and couldn’t find words for.
Birds. The presence of romance seemed to have frightened some of them as they sang and sailed away.
Some other things were rustling in the leaves, but who cared?
On and on the lovers run till the pain in their chest made them stop.
Joe fell on the leaves first, his back to the floor. Becky joined, using his chest as pillow.
How the busy city life with constant news of doom can make one easily forget the little things like these that bring so much pleasure yet cost nothing.
They drifted into a long conversation of small talks, oblivious to the dying sun. He sensed her deliberate attempts to keep the conversation off anything romance.
Clearing his throat, he brings her to the question she’s been trying to avoid.
She initially looked away, a few beads of sweat forming on her face.
Why was she shy?
She fidgets, turns, tries to joke about the question while he calmly awaited the response. He could feel her heart beat, faster and faster. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But he couldn’t just assume without hearing what she had to say.
“It’s getting late!“ she indicates, pointing to the darkening forest.
And she was right. He let himself be lifted to his feet by the soft sweet scented pair of hands.
As they headed home in silence, Joe wondered why she couldn’t give him a definite answer. Or maybe he needs to forget what she said and rather pay attention to her signs?
But signs could be misleading…
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