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Weekly Contest #51
This field felt like home. These trees felt like home. Even those damn bumblebees felt comforting as I swatted them away from my legs and arms. The sight and smells of blue and green and gold and sandalwood perfume take me back. They take me back to you. To cool grass beneath my feet, standing knee-deep until my legs burned with red. In the thicket, I wait for you. You said you’d be here by ten. But now it’s half-past three. Still, I wait for you. I doze off under the shade of a live oak. Still, I wait for you. At four, I see your face...
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