Fiction

We laid there, side by side in the grass together, staring up at the stars. The crisp night air rustled the green blades that sprung up from the ground we were settled on. The breeze gently caressed her long golden hair  that lay in tumbled strands about her face as it slowly died down.

“I always wondered if I would have an experience like this.” She said in a blissful tone.

“Did you have doubts that you wouldn’t?” I asked her.

“Sometimes,” she said, “When I felt alone and unloved. Sitting there in my room with the shades drawn and the door closed. Wondering if I could be loved by anyone.”

“Haven’t you been told that you were loved?” I asked. I could see in her eyes as they dulled that she was thinking back through all the people that she wished had told her that. Then I saw her eyes brighten as she went through all the people that had. She looked at me and smiled.

“Yes,” she replied, “Many times.”

-Max

 Amateur Writer/Novelist