The ocean and a Florida day, bright and warm enough to enjoy it. Sand between my toes, a cold drink, a dry towel. The sort of tired that settles on your skin when you’ve spent hours in the sun. The way you can still feel the rush and retreat of the ocean waves, even as you leave it behind. Even as you go and dream of the next time in the ocean, and a Florida day, bright and warm enough to enjoy it.
Hours in the kitchen, making a mess, but a delicious one. Flour seemingly suspended in the air, oven preheating, a printed recipe stained with egg, vanilla and streaks of chocolate. Always, chocolate.
Excitement coursing through my arms and legs as I find my seat and settle in. Purse under my seat, Kindle in my lap, shoes immediately off my feet. I sit, and wait, and watch as this crowd of strangers files in, awkwardly shuffling around one another, excuse me, excuse me, excuse mes up and down the narrow aisles. A knot of nerves rolls in my stomach and I press my hands together and will it away. It never goes away, though. It keeps me awake the entire flight, as I gaze out the window, and leave. To anywhere, to anywhere, I leave.
I wake up and it’s dark, still and quiet. It’s cold in my room, but I’m perfectly warm under the covers. I stretch and savor the feeling. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t check. Not the time, not the emails, not the texts or notifications. I have nowhere to be today and nothing that requires my time. I turn around, fluff up my pillow, and search again for just a little more sleep.
Windows down, driving in no hurry and in any direction, feet lifted up on my seat, letting the wind and music wash over me in equal parts. You sing, drumming your fingers lightly on the wheel, and I listen for a while before I add my voice in, an octave higher, and there is harmony. You smile as I sway to the music, and we laugh as we both fudge up the words and declare that the artist got it wrong, clearly. You offer me your hand, palm up, and I accept it, lacing my fingers and planting a soft kiss on the knuckle of your thumb. You drive and I trust where you are taking me.
Inspired by this post.
(What are you craving?)