I’m the man who watched. And she’s the woman who noticed.
~ Colt McGraw
My eyes are watching hers, and it takes a while before I notice her offering of sunflowers.
“I do.”
She puts a hand on her cheek and smiles. “I like a man who likes flowers.”
I receive the twined stems in hand and smile, reciprocating hers, engaging the delight that is communicated in her icy blue orbs as they twinkle in a language of unspoken words.
Celestina sure doesn’t talk much. But when she does, it’s like hearing all the beautiful notes from a song.
The sun is bright but not parching. Over the expanse of the meadow I can see the grass mimicking the look and feel of the sea, with tufts cascading over the others and then the next, all of them dancing before my eyes like an ocean of green. They offer a calmi
