Humor - 167 words
Lindsey Thompson
They strolled around the back of the high school until they found the most grandfather-like oak tree, complete with carpet of clover, and sat beneath its protecting arms. The wind picked up and showered them with white petals from newly blossoming trees. The warmest day of the year so far, they lounged in the cool patches and stared upwards through the branches and leaves into the clear blue sky, noiseless in afternoon relaxation. While normal after school interactions were filled with intellectual conversation and snide stabs at one another, this day resonated with silence as they shared in wordless communion for the welcoming of spring.
With an awkward smile he leaned in and said, “I suddenly want to kiss you,” and chuckled with surprise.
“Then do it,” she replied, not a trace of humor. She laid a simple kiss on his cheek and said, “See? Not that hard.” With defiance, her gaze locked with his, prodding him to action.
She awoke from dreaming, in the hospital again.
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