Coffee and Afan lay in the Tall grass and wildflowers by the side of the highway. The evening sun had turned to gold and the goodnight songs of the birds and cicadas was changing to choir of night as frogs, crickets, and owls were tuning up for their nocturnal orchestral performances.

The two friends loved to lay by the roadside. They could bask in the peaceful music of nature punctuated by the sudden and thrilling roar of a massive steel cargo vehicle or throaty growl of a motorcycle passing only an arms distance from their heads. Thrill has much to do with a closeness to death, this was the most basic of thrills.

The dichotomy of serenity and excitement was appealing to both their natures. They would share this little part of the world together while Coffee casually plucked or strummed her guitar. When the shadows had stretched into night they would return to the golden glow of Plum’s bakery and share a meal together before returning to bed or books for the cool night of the dry season.

Coffee was being more cuddly than usual this evening. Afan could feel there was something she wanted to say as she leaned against him. Earlier he had picked her up from a session with her councilor where her status and mental health had been evaluated.

It was easy to forget that their happy life together was part of a anomaly containment program. It felt so comfortable, they were all so happy, and life genuinely felt like I had never been better. All according to a plan, but their love was real.

Coffee sang him a song simple, sincere, and honest. It cut through all clouds and questions and told him all that was in her heart. She looked at him for a reply. He sat up threw his arm around her and pulled her in to kiss her head. They laughed as a huge three trailered cargo truck thundered by them.

They held each other by the roadside in the fading orange a purple of the sunset. Then walked home in the din of the chirping woods to the home they shared.





https://youtu.be/8HL8ghHJPtM