hunter and i saw the sweetest thing the other day: a teenage couple, snuggling on a wooden bench canopied by trees, the calls of hawks, jays, doves, and the chittering of squirrels in the background. they couldn’t have been more than 14, and were clearly trying to escape the prying eyes of parental figures. the girl (straight dark hair, smooth almond skin) was curled up almost in a ball on the boy’s lap, her head on his shoulder, as though this were the safest and most comforting place in the world. the boy (thin, with a mop of blonde hair) sat with one arm around her, a rather stunned look in his blue eyes.
how esme wished she had the courage to ask for a photo. but then of course, the moment would have passed. what did they think of esme? did they worry that’d she’d somehow find a way to tell their parents? did they have any idea how beautiful they looked?
by the time esme circled around to the bench at the end of her walk, they were gone. but all the dog-walkers were talking about them. some recalled their own teenage loves. esme thought about how christophe and his chums introduced her to the fundamental sweetness of teenage boys.
esme snapped a photo of the bench (quite charming on it’s own), but you’ll have to imagine the lovebirds yourself.