Writing: Moment in Time - One Week

She stepped off the plane, grateful to be anywhere but home. She grabs her luggage after fighting to make her way down the terminal, a violent pit of despair for those not fast enough to keep up with the pace. She looks around until her eyes fall on him, standing against the wall, just as silly and sweet as she remembered him. Time slows, the people between them take on a languid pace, but he remains moving in real-time. He looks up and see's her looking at him, a sun lighting up behind his eyes. He wants to move towards her, but his limbs are trapped in slow motion, just as hers. They think, at almost the same time, that this is way too movie-like to be reality, and suddenly time leaps forward like an eager dog.

They spent a week together, roaming the city and exploring its wonders. He bent over backwards, giving her a tell-tale sign that his feelings for her have not lessened, in fact, even after the distance and the men (for her) and women (for him) between their last face to face until now, they have grown. He cant explain it other than just being with her makes him want to be a better person, makes him happy in a way that is hard to describe. She knows this about him, but walking around, he opens to her in a way she has never had someone. She is speechless, unable to think, perhaps not wanting to think, about the possibility of more between them.

Besides that single spark from him, he spoke of it no more, sure that silence on her part meant no. He drives her to the airport, talking of the amazing things they have done in the week. He parks and walks her to the security gate, not wanting to say goodbye. She doesn't know if she has hurt him or might hurt him, but holds him in a long embrace. His eyes close as he wraps his arms around her.

"I'll see you in a week," he whispers in her ear.

"You better," she smiles against his shoulder.

They both lean up and look into the others eyes, faces only inches apart. . .