The Tree
It all started upside down. I was hanging in my favorite tree at the lake. The one I always cling to in times of doubt. Here I was again and here he was again.
We never spoke last time we were here, he could see I was deep in thought and I could tell I was in his favorite tree.
We left it at that, not realizing we were meant to meet again.
His eyes were so blue they looked fake. His dark hair curled around his brow where the sweatlets were building. His lips…
The lake looked cold today. No more swimming this summer. The seagulls seemed happy to have the area back as their own.
I wanted to say something profound, something meaningful, insightful. But all I came up with was, “They could use a chip truck down here, eh?” I was embarrassed already.
“Yup” was all he said before retreating to the safety of another tree.
I wanted to follow, but I knew if I came up with another witty comment, I might blow it.