Down the Garden Path

She meets him there, a small girl with a crafted dandelion crown wrapped around her head. And him, a miniature gentleman with a shy smile and a handful of golden daises. They met down the garden path everyday.

Five years and she kisses him under a wooden pillar, his smell filling her- the smell of a woody area and a river flowing nearby.

Soon she takes his hand and leads him down the garden path. Him in a tux, her in a dress. They hold hands as they make it to the end where a white gate waits.

Behind that gate is their rented honeymoon home, a gorgeous tan house, with an indoor pool, a game room and one unbelievably large bedroom with a bed even bigger, for all the normal after-marriage doings.

The girl, smiling and happy as the boy puts the key into the lock, freeing the door from its jam and letting them both inside the homes cozy interior.

White walls, deep brown hardwood floors, tile in the bathroom, chandeliers hanging in the dining room and in the bedroom, pictures of puppies and plants and in the doorway, the newly wed couple stands.

Chuckles and small smiles as they shyly shuffle into the bedroom and peel off each other’s wedding attire.

A white dress slipped from the shoulders and crinkled onto the floor. A suit slipped down and off beside the bed.

A touch, a gentle caress. A kiss, a simple three-worded sentence. It all started down the garden path and now it ends at one.

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