by Greta Igl
We spread our bounty on a blanket alongside the creek on our first outing that first warm spring day. The fledgling sunlight filtered through the budding leaves, casting your face in a light I’d never seen before. Damp seeped through the blanket and soaked my jeans as you lay with your head in my lap, but I didn’t dare move for fear of losing the moment. You smiled that easy smile of yours, and watching you, I wanted that moment to last forever, the wonder and the newness and the surge of the creek and my heart. But it was spring, the most fleeting of the seasons. We’d arrived before the yellow-hearted crocuses, before the sun melted the last of the grainy snow, but somehow missed that this was spring’s - was our - flush and dew-kissed zenith.
Greta Igl is a former technical writer and self-proclaimed Jack of All Trades. Her short fiction has been published in Long Story Short, Tuesday Shorts, Word Riot, and 6S. For more of Greta’s writing, please visit her blog.