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Flight of Fancy

Gunther Boccius

    He sniffed the air. Clear.
    She looked at the lake in the distance, shading her eyes from the sun, though its fluttery reflection off the lake’s glassy surface caused her to squint.
    On this mountain ridge, they sat quietly amid the dwarf pines just below the timberline, content to be holding hands. There was a pervading sense of place and peace. A soft breeze pushed against their faces, tickling their cheeks. A slow smile spread across his lips, curling them at the ends. Hers followed, quicker, bright teeth showing through.
    “What?”
    “Just thinking about us.”
    Her eyes twinkled with recognition, but with patience for his explanation.
    “We are better together than apart.”
    “Mmmm...” Accepting, but noncommittal.
    “I mean, we...we only just met, yet it seems we have known each other forever.”
    “Mmmm...” Growing understanding.
    He stretched his limbs, rubbing his back where it had been leaning against the granite boulder. “I was smitten the first time I saw you. Smitten.”
    “Smitten?” Amused at the choice of the word as well as its implications, she laughed, scratching her nose, wrinkling it. “What an interesting word. Smitten.”
    He chuckled. “Yeah.” His face rose skyward, watching an eagle soaring high above, its wingspan letting it glide effortlessly, floating weightlessly.
    Their eyes reconnected. His thumbs massaged her fingers. “I know you’re the one. You and I will have a wonderful flight of fancy.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “I pledge you my heart. Will you offer me yours?”
    “Mmmm...” Nod of agreement.
    Their eyes momentarily held a gaze of rising affection, then shifted to the water, sky and mountains in the distance, thoughts turning to the promise of times to come.

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