Two figures, sitting at the edge of the world. A boy and girl, sheltered against the night’s wind. They sat upon the roaring bluffs, while the ocean expanded and flexed before them– a world without end. Together they sipped their wine and they talked about the life they planned: big house, big dogs, big love. And between the ocean and the cliffs it was enough.
They drove home soaked, from where the cresting waves had caught them unaware. They shivered and laughed, their breathing fogging up the windows, blurring the streetlights as they passed. Stumbling up two flights of stairs, and tumbling into the comfort of her bed. Ignoring the pillows, he laid his head upon her breast. Her pulsing heart beating in time with his, and to her life’s rhythm– he slept.
They lay there, entangled and enthralled. As the sunlight spilled through the window and crept up her walls. He traced the curves of her sleeping face with his fingertips, caressing her eyelids and her lips. He imagined her, wrinkled with the test of time and age. And he imagined himself waking up to her, every morning of every day. In that moment in this strange place, he was both at home and at peace. He had neither a big house or big dogs… but in his heart he had the big love. And that was enough.
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