On the Dock

We walk along the dock where the large boats – the ones that are too big to fit into a slot, or are stationed too fleetingly to bother tying into one – are tied, bobbing up and down in time with the waves like children’s toys in a bath tub. It’s beautiful looking out at the setting sun, which stains the sky and dyes the sea with its plethora of colors that cannot be described.

The first stars are beginning to poke their shining heads out of the fabric of the sky. The smell of salt permeates everything. It’s invigorating.

We sit on the edge, dangling our legs over the side – toes almost skimming the water, but not quite. We stare at our reflections for a long moment – him; long hair tangled up in his big brown eyes, shining smile that easily encompasses half of his face, and me; hair blowing crazily in the wind, eyes nervously seeking his face for a sign that he feels it, too.

When his fingers find their way around my own, I catch my breath, knowing that this scene will be one not easily forgotten.

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