ROMANTIC FLASH FICTION 3:
There is a haven of love by the river I know. It is a place where languid waves of cool, refreshing water douse rugged rocks; where currents glide downstream with effortless ease; and where the gentle purr of babbling brooks meets the fortitude of rushing rapids. The surrounding forest is a sinfonietta of trills and warbles, the serenade of the heart.
I stoop down by the river to the place I remember so well. The sun is warm on my face but I remember it being more shaded then. I sit on the grass, close my eyes, and recall that day. She could not have looked lovelier. A gold dress accentuating her wavy blonde hair. Black lace trim. Silk. Must have been silk. Yet it wasn’t the dress I was after, but the one wearing it.
I spread out my long coat on the grass and, taking her gently by the hand, lowered her to her back on top of it. I swear I saw diamonds and all sorts of glimmering stars behind her enchanting stare.
“Make love to me,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling with every beat of my heart.
I don’t know why I hesitated. I suppose we are all reluctant to dive in head-first into something so wonderful that we are afraid of ruining it, like spoiling the masterpiece by adding one more stroke of the brush to the painting. But I knew I couldn’t resist much longer, and when our lips met, I felt the universe pull me into a vacuum of space and time where the only thing in the world that existed was our genuine love for each other, now given free rein to run wild. And wild it ran. While the river flowed over jagged rocks, our love flowed in glorious expression. With fervent heat that drove our senses, we reached greater elevations of ecstasy without ever leaving the grassy ground, moaning and writhing in tune with the current.
When it was over, we kissed and held each other and kissed some more.
“Promise me one thing,” she spoke as birds sang in trees above us.
“I’ll promise you the whole world and more,” I said, nibbling at her neck.
“Just do this,” she said, “and it will mean the world to me.”
“That we’ll never come back here in our lifetime,” she said. “This is the way I want us to remember this place. With the river, with you. Our own sacred haven.”
“I promise you,” I said, kissing her full ruby lips again, and as she lay back, we made more memories of love and euphoria.
Now as I slide my aged fingers gently over the grassy ground, I open my eyes and dream of the memories that have stayed with me all these years. She has been gone for three years now, and just for once, if only for one day, I wanted to feel her presence again.
Just as my heart feels pangs of sadness tugging at the old memory, a warm breeze interrupts my thoughts and green leaves dance. And I smile knowingly. If I close my eyes again, I am certain I will hear her voice in the wind. The loveliest voice I have ever known and ever will know, simply saying, “I forgive you.”