100 Things, #13: Slow motion daydream
Apr. 9th, 2013 07:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impyHey, remember that 100 Things Challenge? Yeah. Every time I think I've got something to noodle out, something else comes along and wants my attention. Since I'm actively trying to avoid thinking about something else now, I figure maybe it'll work in reverse.
So, let's resume 100 Things That Changed My Life, Take 13: One Perfect Moment.
It's summer, which means that it's somewhere near a hundred and thirteen even in the shade. We could stay inside where the A/C is running full blast and it feels fantastic. Or you could slip your hand in mine and suggest we go for an after dinner walk, maybe to the ice-cream parlor down the road. I might laugh and point out that 'down the road' is all well and good on a normal day, but today one could probably honestly fry an egg out on the street.
It doesn't matter, ice-cream and a walk are required and so they must be done. I don't remember much about the walk to get the ice-cream, but on the way back the whole world seems to slow down in that liquid sunshine haze that you always hear about when someone decidedly not Southern ventures south of the Mason Dixon line. It's too hot for gnats or mosquitoes let alone other people even as the sun begins to slowly set overhead, so it's just the two of us drifting down the street, ice-cream in hand. The whole world seems to have vanished from sight and even as it's happening I think how ridiculous it is to think any such thing.
For one brief moment in time everything in life seemed so perfect that I had to freeze frame it. I never thought it was possible to actually do any such thing, but I'll be damned if I can't bring out this slowly fading memory out every so often and still feel the sunshine on my skin, the way your hand felt in mine, and the sheer, perfect happiness of one moment.
Even when the world imploded, this one moment is left untouched by all the pain that later seemed to destroy every other memory of us.
So, let's resume 100 Things That Changed My Life, Take 13: One Perfect Moment.
It's summer, which means that it's somewhere near a hundred and thirteen even in the shade. We could stay inside where the A/C is running full blast and it feels fantastic. Or you could slip your hand in mine and suggest we go for an after dinner walk, maybe to the ice-cream parlor down the road. I might laugh and point out that 'down the road' is all well and good on a normal day, but today one could probably honestly fry an egg out on the street.
It doesn't matter, ice-cream and a walk are required and so they must be done. I don't remember much about the walk to get the ice-cream, but on the way back the whole world seems to slow down in that liquid sunshine haze that you always hear about when someone decidedly not Southern ventures south of the Mason Dixon line. It's too hot for gnats or mosquitoes let alone other people even as the sun begins to slowly set overhead, so it's just the two of us drifting down the street, ice-cream in hand. The whole world seems to have vanished from sight and even as it's happening I think how ridiculous it is to think any such thing.
For one brief moment in time everything in life seemed so perfect that I had to freeze frame it. I never thought it was possible to actually do any such thing, but I'll be damned if I can't bring out this slowly fading memory out every so often and still feel the sunshine on my skin, the way your hand felt in mine, and the sheer, perfect happiness of one moment.
Even when the world imploded, this one moment is left untouched by all the pain that later seemed to destroy every other memory of us.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-10 12:56 am (UTC)And, LOL, I swear I didn't see this entry before posting mine for the evening! But I like that we're sorta on the same wavelength :P
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-10 06:56 pm (UTC)