Picnic

The sun beats down, warming the picnic table which we sit at. The dogs chase and play in the freshly cut grass and make friends with whoever walks by, down the meandering pathway close to where we sit. 

There are redbrick houses lining the street opposite to the park which overlooks the glistening blue sea, separated from us only by a railway track.

The quiet of the peaceful park is disturbed only by the bark of a dog or our laughter or the singing of birds, high in the trees at the bottom of the cliff face. 

We sit at opposite ends of the picnic table, reunited safely once more during these strange and unpredictable times.

We smile and laugh throughout, finding normality in our little picnic, while we sit six feet apart, eating our simple sandwiches and talking of anything from trival matters to our hopes and dreams for the future.

Our smiles only ever faltered when we remembered we couldnot hug when we finally said our goodbyes.

 

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Lily Larkin
May 28 2020

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