This Friday's writing prompt from Westbow Press is about your own "special place" (think Pearl the starfish in Finding Nemo). What's my special place? Well, here's a short story that pretty much sums it up. I'll leave it up to you to determine if it's fiction or not.
She dipped her foot in the water and laughed when he swooped her up from behind, threatening to throw her in the lake.
"How long until we need to check out?" she asked. The last time she wore her watch was the day before the wedding.
"I don't know," he replied. "Another hour, I'd guess. Maybe two."
She hoped it was two. He sat down next to her on the dock.
"Ready to go back to the real world?" he asked. She laughed at the question. The "real world," whatever that was, wouldn't ever be the same after this week. She watched the diamonds in her wedding band glisten in the sun. She leaned her head on his chest, and he reached around and tried to tickle her side. She pushed him away.
"I wish we could stay here forever," she whispered. He was skipping stones in the lake. She thought about the laundry, the grocery shopping, all the details she'd have to take care of when they got home. "I wonder what the next few months will be like," she said. He didn't respond.
She wished the sun would stand still, but noticed with regret that their shadows were already shortening. As much as she might hope, she knew time wasn't about to stop just for them. The real world was waiting for them - a world of church meetings and youth group retreats and conferences and all-nighters. They already talked about starting a family soon. Would they ever be able to take all their kids on a vacation like this on a youth-pastor salary?
There was so much at the time that she didn't know. Only one week into married life, how could she prepare herself for that first miscarriage? How could she foresee the degenerative arthritis that would steal her new husband's ability? The next time they went near a lake, he'd be unable to lower himself to sit by her side.
She couldn't imagine the six months of unemployment, or the depression and anxiety that would sneak up and threaten their union. She didn't know that so many of the dreams she now shared with her husband would be shattered one after another.
All she knew was that it was almost time to go. Whether they were ready or not, the car had to be packed. The keys to the condo had to be returned.
He stood with ease and stretched before helping her up. "Ready?" he asked. pretending one last time like he was about to throw her in the lake.
She smiled and put her hand in his.
"I'm ready," she replied.