Flowers

They sat there in darkness on a park bench. She held onto the flowers he had given her earlier that evening; a mixed bouquet of different colors; gold, rust, yellow, with green leaves wrapped in plastic. She had never got flowers before, made her feel wanted, loved. On this night. On this night.

He took her by the hand and led her over to the swing set where she took a seat. The tall boy of sixteen pushed from behind. She felt herself climbing the sky; reaching for the sliver of silver hiding behind clouds as stars looked on.

She held onto the chains with both hands, dropping the flowers to the wet Autumn ground. A breeze blew up her dress and cooled her long legs. Flip flops were kicked off her painted feet. The blonde girl with curls began to laugh. She asked to go higher, then higher, and higher still. The boy pushed with all his might and watched as she jumped from the swing and flew to the yellowing grass.

You alright?, he asked. Took quite a jump there girl. Did you break anything?, he reached out for her.

The young lady reached out her hands and held onto his. He lifted her up and carried her back over to the bench. Quietly they sat there. Neither made a move. He reached over to kiss her as she leaned into him. They felt each other, hands moving all over. The hazed blue park lights went out making it hard to see. They decided it was time to go home.

They walked down Broadway and he stood next to her as the porch lights came on. They kissed one more time and then he told her goodnight. She smelled her flowers and exhaled, wishing him a goodnight as well.

Both slept well that night. For Autumn, that most magical time, had begun.

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