Tim woke up with the sun that morning. He emerged from the bedroom and found Celeste already awake, making coffee. He had been at the…
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Tim woke up with the sun that morning. He emerged from the bedroom and found Celeste already awake, making coffee.
He had been at the farm for a little over a month.
When Celeste saw him she said hi and asked if he’d slept well. He walked up to her and kissed her lips. It felt good and natural; something that was meant to be the first thing you did in your day, every day.
“I don’t like waking up without you,” Tim said.
“Your sleep looked amazing, I didn’t want to damage it,” Celeste replied.
“It’s just sleep. You’re better.”
Celeste smiled at that.
“Sleep is precious, it’s never just sleep,” She said, “It crept up on you last night, real quick. You fell asleep right at the edge of a question you asked. Barely finished the words. That’s some professional sleep sneak right there. That’s precious and not to be messed with. I made coffee.”
She handed him a cup and he took a sip, carefully.
“That’s not regular coffee, that’s super coffee,” Tim said.
“My coffee is always super coffee,” Celeste said, “by the way, I decided pancakes for breakfast and also I decided that you were making them.”
Tim smiled, kissed Celeste again, and went to the fridge to take some eggs out. He made the pancakes. They ate their breakfast in silence, sharing an occasional smile. When they were done they went to sit on the porch, looking out at the wheat field spread out before them, licked into a golden glow by the sun’s early morning rays, and shared a cigarette and then another. Eventually, Celeste said Let’s get to it, and they did. They worked all day, taking a break only at one in the afternoon, eating sandwiches Tim had prepared because he was really good at sandwiches.
Evening came crawling on the world. This was to be the last one they spent together, and they both knew it.
Tim prepared supper. They ate together, cleaned the dishes, and sat on the porch afterward, rolling and smoking cigarettes. They wanted the hours to stretch, the night to bleed into tomorrow and never end. But time, they knew, would not bend for them.
“This was a good month,” Celeste said.
“It was,” said Tim.
“My husband will be back tomorrow…”
“I know. You were very clear. It’s okay.”
“I will miss you, Tim.”
“It was a good month.”
They smoked together until the sky filled with stars, exchanging few words. It was comfortable.
“What were you looking for, when you came here a month ago?” Celeste asked, eventually.
Tim, silent for a bit, thought about the question.
“A while back I decided I needed to change things in my life.” He said, “I decided I would look for amazing and/or impossible things. I came here hoping I would find something like that.”
“Those are good things to look for,” Celeste said.
“And? Did you find them?” Celeste asked.
Tim smiled at Celeste, who smiled back.
They kissed. For a long time, all that could be heard on that porch were the songs of crickets and the little sounds their lips made as they danced and flirted.
Celeste took Tim’s hand and led him to the bedroom where they slept together one last time, whispering soft words, quiet kindnesses.
On the edge of sleep, Tim asked Celeste, “You said earlier that I fell asleep after a question last night, you remember? This morning you said that.”
“Yeah,” said Celeste.
“What was it?” Tim asked.
“You were asking me something personal. You were careful about it. It was nice of you to ask.”
“I don’t remember…”
“I don’t think I want to tell you, I want to keep it for me,” Celeste said, “anyway I don’t have an answer to the question so it doesn’t matter.” She paused for a while and added, “But it’s fun to think about.”
Shortly after that, she fell asleep with her arms around him. He was already deep in dreams by then.
She woke up with the sun the following morning.
Tim was gone.
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