Maybe that was enough

Two+individuals+in+floral+blouses+embracing%2C+realizing+that+they+are%2C+in+fact%2C+enough.+

Kaethe Butcher

Two individuals in floral blouses embracing, realizing that they are, in fact, enough.

They had walked for entirely too long, talked about absolutely nothing, and done naught to better themselves besides be in one another’s presence. However, both held a solemn secret that maybe that was enough. 

The dewy morning grass now carved footprints under their emboldened strides, the town below laying quaint and untouched. Teachers tip-toed by behind them, the nature of their walks matching the hushed tones of their voices, their words barely breaking a whisper.

Just past the steep hillside that divided them and the townsfolk, a tower chimed six o’clock with a muddled yet recognizable tune. Men began softly emerging from their homes, delicately pulling the doors shut behind them as if the hatches were crafted from fragile origami. After greeting those who also stepped forth into the square, they swiftly mounted their bicycles and pushed off into the mountains. 

From behind them in the bushes, they could hear the subtle lighting of a match as it circled to the ends of cigarettes. Girls faintly giggled, the sound of one stomping out the flame also audible from where they sat on the hillside. Lamps in the main building began flickering on, the early morning gossip spreading like wildfire through the halls. 

If only they had realized that maybe that was enough.”

They had sat on the ground by then, the wet meadow soaking their uniform skirts and creating grass stains on the starched white surfaces. The friends had stumbled upon the topic of art, precisely the beauty of the countryside they found themselves sharing and how the same area deserved to be painted. They both pledged they’d be the ones to do it, though neither ever would. 

Opening their mouth to breathe, one looked to the other at the sweet taste of lemon and rain that coated their tongue. It was then that they realized their pelagic blue irises lined in a circle of celestial cobalt. They looked up to witness the other’s blithe dirty-blonde hair faintly blow in the rising breeze. They suddenly gathered that one had been carrying a book, but they cannot recollect the edition or title; they just remember realizing that they had not realized. 

The tides crashed and combined within those eyes, the world dependent and fixated upon their glance. It was not just their eyes, though, that the universe earnestly revolved around. They had walked for entirely too long, talked about absolutely nothing, and done naught to better themselves besides be in one another’s presence.

If only they had realized that maybe that was enough.