Part 1.14

“That one over there looks like a poodle,” said Molly, pointing at a cloud that ambled by amidst a tumble of its friends, watched over by a bright sun hanging high in the blue summer sky.
I squinted at it, incredulously, hating the game. It was a cloud, and it looked like a cloud not a poodle, because it was simply that: a cloud.
“It looks like a fish to me,” I replied sarcastically.
Molly raised herself up on one elbow, her curls falling like a shower of amber around her pale, freckled face. “Aaron, you’re impossible.” I grinned and pulled her towards me in order to kiss her. She struggled with mock resistance but we were soon rolling, laughing amidst the daisies and wild, sweet-smelling Norfolk grasses.
Later, Molly lay cradled against me under her grandmother’s patch quilt picnic blanket, her naked body soft and perfumed against my skin. She tousled my hair with her fingers while I lay with my eyes closed. “I love you, Aaron,” she said, snuggling up close for comfort.
“Uhuh,” I replied, but my mind was far away, daydreaming of journeys, university, and a future that I was certain waited with bated breath for my arrival.

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