I grinned as I put my hands into my pockets. I leaned against a tree
while watching her running through the snow-covered field. I loved every
minute of it. Watching her run around, screaming gleefully with her arms
flailing made me feel indescribably young again. I reminisced some
thirty years back when we were on a snow-covered beach that greatly
resembled our private little field here. So long ago, we had to be in
our early twenties, we were on a snow-covered beach where she was
recalling her childhood and I stood with her and listened to her,
hanging on every word that left her lips. I closed my eyes and deeply
inhaled the fresh, crisp air. I remembered the view of the beautiful,
frozen lake and how easily the ice cracked when I barely touched my foot
to it, followed by her worried voice calling me back to her. My eyes
reopened and I exhaled, seeing my breath before me. Both my eyebrows and
my gaze rose with interest when I heard her call my name. I saw her
rolling over and over on her side in the snow down a gently sloping
hill, laughing happily. I did not move, and she stopped rolling when she
reached my feet and stared dreamily up at me. I told myself that some
things never do change. I smirked down at her and brushed the snow off
her cheeks and nose. After helping her to her feet, I abruptly recalled
a moment where we were sitting on a bench, overlooking the beach's
frozen lake, and she was laying against me. And I asked her to marry me.
Now, decades later, I smile at her and hold her in the privacy of our
own secluded field. And she looked up at me into my eyes and whispered,
"Yes."


Penned by my hand on the 21st of Slyphian, in the year 138 MA.