Only A Moment

               The air was sticky with newborn pollen as the wind softly kissed its way through drowsy flowerbeds. Though it was late afternoon the heat from earlier hours still clung like a veil over grass-encrusted hilltops. They rolled and swayed circling around low-lying houses like walls of the imaginary kind. Trees were scarce, separated like long lost lovers on forlorn crests and in the lazy slopes of the valleys. With every slight gust of wind they waved grief filled greetings to each other before they stood still and statuesque against a slowly dimming sky.

               On one particular hill's brow there sat an old tree, its branches worn and some broken, from years of children scaling to the top. Its trunk bore the scars of too many carved hearts, bearing the names of him and her, some with arrows and others still scratched out to the point of being illegible. On one branch that hung out stray from the rest there was an aged swing with ropes that were fraying in places, holding up a board that had been replaced so many times. Against the slight breeze the tree quivered like taking in a long breath as if it too were as human as those who had shared its company. The moment passed quickly and the tree went back to being nothing more than just that.

               Sitting amongst the trees curved heavy roots was a teenage girl, face round and childlike with eyes wide with emerald wonder. She was leaning gently on one arm while the other held up a well-worn book. After she flipped to each new page a slow smile spread moistly across her full pink lips. Her hair was tied back in a slack bun letting wisps of scarlet hair caress her dimly freckled cheeks. She would shift every so often; changing the hand she leaned with to the hand that grasped her book. Now and then she would even straighten or pull her legs up close, her back stiffening against the tattered tree trunk.

                She was not alone though, atop the hill. Lying in the grass close at hand was a boy about the same age. He had a piece of grass hanging languid between yielding lips, his sculptured jaw line pointed to the sky. He was inhaling slightly and exhaling even deeper with eyes half closed like shutters against the last embers of afternoon sunlight. Now and then she would peek at him from the corner of her book or reach over to ruffle his deeply sandy hair. His cheeks would even flush from time to time when she flicked flirtatious glances in his direction letting his marine dipped eyes focus behind sharp cut glasses.

               It appeared that they were both only speaking in subtle gestures and fleeting looks. Their minds far off in both directions, yet slowly coming together when they noticed the other was looking. It was lack of conversation, the dryness of mouth, which spoke louder than either of them ever could. It was all left in the fact that they didn't have to say anything at all. The girl would turn sometimes in his direction eyes intent as if to break the silence, but as she stared at the outstretched body pressing down the grass she thought better of it. It was like a tango of sorts, a movement from her a pining gaze from him. Slowly it turned into some sort of waiting game on which one was to make the first move.

               He broke the silence first, jarring it in an incomprehensible way. "What are you reading, Love?" his voice cracked from little use. She turned eyes heavy with approval making it obvious to him that she couldn't help but adore him.