Chris (archi3d)
Saint.Pierre
Some nights it’s like this – just me and my girl, sitting by the window with the noises of the night-time streets falling into our laps. We talk and talk — about anything and about nothing. We might plan our escape to the countryside where we will buy a farmhouse and keep chickens. Or we’ll travel overland to Asia and put down roots in Nepal or Bhutan.
Sometimes while she talks I think about the curve of her face, the way her ponytail swings when she laughs — which she does often –and how I want to feel that soft hair in the palm of my hand. And then she catches me watching instead of listening, and her eyes narrow for a second before she laughs and sets that ponytail swinging with mirth again.
On those nights — when I can take my eyes off her — I remember to stop and silently thank whoever it is I should thank, for I am simply glad to be alive.
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