“if only you could see”

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They were slowly making their way across the field as the sun beat down on them, wild flowers painting it several shades of pink, yellow, and violet. "Make me something pretty," she said as she noticed the abundance of flowers. In passing the patches, he made sure to pick quite a few flowers of each color. He slowly began arranging as they trekked on, careful not to break the stem too short or leave to much to make sure they weren't uneven. There was only one time he'd ever done anything with flowers, and that was watching them wither after having picked them. He wasn't sure what she wanted, but hopefully she'd like what he had in mind..

He was almost finished with the chain when they finally made it through the field. What he really wanted now was to sit under shade and properly finish; they were heading for the swing, as usual. But, she found a new priority. Much like walking in a daze, she barely made it to the tree before practically collapsing. The heat made her tired, and just getting through the field was enough to wipe her out. She managed to get comfortable in leaning against the tree, then falling into a slumber. After deciding to sit next to her, he inspected the chain of flowers he'd completed. In seemed as if it would hold for the time being. He placed it lightly on her head, yet she didn't budge. Placing his arms behind his head, he too decided to lean against the tree. It was no doubt hot outside, so maybe a small nap wouldn't hurt he thought. As he looked around, he noticed something: the swing was empty. He stole a sideways glance at his sleeping beauty before getting up and walking towards it. He stared at it for a second, back at her, then the swing. And he decided: it was his turn to swing.

He gripped his hands around the rope so tightly his knuckles turned white. He sat idly for a moment- the seat was perfect in that it was so small, yet it was able to hold his weight, and then he realized there was no one to push him. This didn't matter. He was fully capable of swinging himself. He walked back slowly, until the tips of his toes just barely touched the ground, then he let the swing take him forward. The process was repetitive, almost mechanical, but with each back and forth motion, he could fill the air rushing around him. It would fill his lungs, and there was a heightened sense of being- was this euphoria?

From up here, everything was perfect and all it required was another push in the right direction. He leaned back, and closed his eyes. The disorientation was a curious feeling; he opened his eyes and the earth was his ceiling, if only for a few seconds, until the sky surged before his eyes again. As he swung forward again, he sat up too quickly. The rush of blood to the head that had settled flowed back as gravity took its affect again. He wondered if this was how she felt when she took her place on the swing time and time again. The naive selfishness wouldn't allow her to share this unlikely source of happiness. But any outside thought fled quickly, for he felt as if he could swing forever.

No doubt the sun would be setting soon, and the day would end whether he wanted it to or not. And so he just sat there, letting the swing finish its course instead of abruptly stopping it. He hummed as he walked over to the tree and without warning lifted her from the ground, carrying her as he did before.

"Huh...?" she said, rubbing her eyes, realizing she was no longer on the ground. She felt something strange on her head, and upon placing her hand on it, discovered that he made her a chain of flowers.

"We're going home," he said simply, and with a smile, she closed her eyes again.

Labels: fiction junction