They went to the hayloft because there was nowhere else. He was shipping out in the morning. She was off to college.

Her palms cupped the sides of his face to study his eyes and he grinned down at her. All of these years of wanting saved for these precious moments of frantic clumsiness.

She had waited for him, for always.

Sharp needles of straw pinched their skin as they made love, him trying to be gentle, her needing him as part of herself.

She felt they were on the precipice of future lives with time as tenuous as gossamer.

5/17/2017

Sascha Darlington