A soft breeze in my face. The sun tickling my skin. Green, healthy grass between my toes. A blue sky overhead, with wispy whip-cream white clouds slowly sailing across the sky. The fragrance of lake water and seaweed strong in my nostrils. Green, lush trees standing like silent sentries along the lakeside. The sound of laughter, happiness, and overall hope swimming in and out of my ears. The lapping of the waves on the lakeside joins the quick and light scratching noises that jump from my pencil. A picture, half-completed, covers a sharp white page in my sketchbook. The twigs on the ground snap as a form walks in a relaxed stride toward me. A body stops to my left and sits down. A moment later earth brown hair tickles as it sweeps over my hand. A head leans on my shoulder and arms wind around my midsection. A voice breaks the air, and all other sounds seem to cease their existence in respect.


“That looks like it’s coming along really well.”


I let my free arm snake its way across her back. My sketchbook drops to my lap as I slowly glance up at the horizon, a distant look in my eyes. I contemplate the words in my head. A decision is reached and my voice answers,


“Yes. It’s coming along nicely.”