The Perfect Day

Two people, lovers from a distance, are having lunch on a shady knoll. Nothing but sandwiches and juice. They smile as they look at each other.

These are delicious. I’ve always liked what you do with the apples.

Thanks.

Mundane, yet, oddly endearing.

It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?

The sun is up, not a cloud in the sky and the breeze carries with it just enough strength to tingle your skin. It’s a perfect day.

Yeah.

One of their smiles falters for a moment.

Everything okay?

Yeah.

No it isn’t. You’re getting pretty sloppy, you know?

Hmmm?

Come now, the scenery, the food. The company. You’re softening me up, like a mother to her babe. You have something to say, maybe?

The other’s eyes face away.

I guess, I can’t hide it from you.

Nope.

Do you remember when was the last time we did this?



Nope.

A shaky smile graces one of their lips.

Neither do I.



Moments pass with nothing but the odd glance being exchanged. Then, as if on cue, they face one another again.

So, I guess that’s it?

Yeah.

It’s for the best, right?



Yeah.

Nothing more to do about it?



Nothing.

They try to look away, but neither are capable.

Silence.

One of them motions and holds the other’s hand. They look at each other with the type of meaning one would give to only that which is most sacred. One more word is exchanged.

Thanks.

The hand withdraws and so does its owner. A short walk down the knoll and away from the other.