Somewhere Over the Sun

He’ll allow himself to think it only once: he does not like lace. He is trying to quell negative thoughts, to not succumb to the pointless habit of dwelling on things that have no actual negative affect on his life. If you do not like bananas, do not eat bananas.

As soon as he gets rid of the thought, lets it slip from his fingers like a balloon being released to the heavens, she takes off her shirt. “That lace was killing my sunburn.” She walks to her closet slowly, gingerly, as if even the bottom of her feet are sunburned.

Watching her walk across the room, her hair matted from sleep, he gets the feeling that time has not passed. They’ve taken three naps and the sun’s still fighting through the blinds and the lunch they had outside might last them for weeks.

“Ah,” she says through a smile and a sigh and the shirt that still isn’t covering her fully, “I like cotton.”

Note: this is part of my ongoing “Before Sunrise” give me a word, and I’ll give you a piece of writing…thing. I’m really enjoying writing these, and I have gotten quite a few requests, so if yours hasn’t been fulfilled, don’t worry, I’ll get to it eventually.