"I don't really want to start packing for home yet."

"Do you remember how we danced that first night? We were so far from this plane, this reality, dancing so fast, so intently, shaking and spinning around. Your hair flew about your face like strings of laughter, bouncing in your currents. I remember feeling infinite. And I knew that I couldn't say it that night. Not while I felt like that, not while you were so beautiful and free.
The next morning I wanted to tell you, but you were busy feeding me delight by the spoonful, and your eyes were all electric. I was enchanted by you , so I didn't ruin the moment.
And then we rented those bikes that we rode for miles along the coast. I might have said it over dinner that night, but we had mussels. You were such an adorable sight, tearing the shells apart, that I stayed silent. We had ice cream for dessert: green tea with grapefruit. You had said it sounded so strange that we had to try it. It was delicious.
So here we are and I still haven't told you, because every moment was just too perfect to change. See, the thing is, we can't go home. Don't look at me like that. I gave the cat to our neighbors, and I prank called your boss, my boss, the landlord and the police. I also sold our car and furniture. I told all our friends that we were only pretending to like them, and asked them not to call. We can never go back. We're free! So, no, I'm not going to pack."


I've felt this urge to write more, but I have no idea what to write about. So I'm going to start posting blurbs, essays, vignettes, from prompts that I come across. Enjoy.