Happy anniversary, Pace! This one’s for you.
It was a dark and stormy night.
How cliche, he thought to himself as he began the long walk home. The rain came down in slow, fat drops; manatee swimming ever downward from the sky to end by kissing the ground. He held out his hand, catching a palmful of drops, and smiled.
Then he saw her.
She’d been watching him through the window of the café all afternoon. Even as the sun began to hide behind the clouds, she was there. Even as the darkness crept across the afternoon, even as the bolts of lightening streaked across the sky and the manatee-drops began their slow dance down, she was there. Calm. Watching. Patient.
Their eyes met. He froze, his hand outstretched and filled – filling further, overflowing. The drops gathered on his eyelashes, making her look like a dream, like an illusion. He blinked and the rain ran down his face.
He blinked and she filled his vision. Time slowed. He blinked at half-speed, and she was right there in front of him, her hand in his.
“You,” he whispered.
“You,” she whispered.
She took his other hand, the world forgotten around them. They began to dance, to move together. She sang to him, the music filling him, encompassing them. He rested his head on her chest, and her heartbeat gave rhythm to the song. He let his tears join the rain’s slow waltz down his face, and he found his voice joining hers. He looked at her face, and she looked into his eyes. They walked a few steps, rounded a corner, and climbed the raindrops like ladders. Up, over, up. They reached the clouds and walked together, hand in hand, hearts in sync. Reunited.
