Eight stories above the urban garden Midge used her binoculars to try and discern individuals she knew. Black shadows blurred like leaves on urban flowers planted in rows directly below.
This is where his watch said he’d be. Two pm. A special lunch. So similar to their first meeting at a different urban garden. As he approached, he twirled a coin along with his grin, “Penny, for your thoughts?
Since she had been reading Voltaire, she was a little miffed that he presumed a penny would be enough to value her every growing thoughts on the folly of optimism. But she liked the way he twisted his smile, and that he was interested in her thoughts and not her thighs.
“Actually, I picked this umbrella here today to shelter me from any natural disasters or unwanted advances.” At that, his laugh bellowed up into her heart, and so of course they fell in love.
Peering down into another garden, Midge felt the shift in her perspective. Perky undergrad, no more. And his special lunches cropping up more and more among a fresh field of flowering minds.
When she found him, he was peddling the same smile. Must have kept it in his back pocket because she hadn’t felt its glow for years.
She twirled a new penny in her fingers, remembering that there were never any promises made, only the sharing of sunshine and poetry lines.
Midge stilled the spinning penny. Silly, she thought, lining it up precisely with the top of his head. Like Candide, she knew it was all a myth, but she just couldn’t resist letting it go.