The summer air was crisp that night, despite the heat of the day.
The booming of dynamite
Echoed off the rugged faces of the Payette River Mountain range,
Illuminating our world in reds, greens, and golds.
It had been a long couple of hours of idle chatter and small talk:
Despite our mutual scars and bruises,
We were strangers still.
Millions of crystalline stars twinkled above us, peeking behind cloud of smoke.
You joined our small group around the fire.
I tugged at my shorts, self conscious by your presence.
The way your shoulders sloped was familiar.
The asymmetry of your lips was endearing.
I couldn’t remember your name.
We sat in comfortable silence, watching the flames grow higher.
You added a fresh log to the blaze,
The flames eagerly licking away the wood,
Black tendrils of smoke reaching higher, grasping for fresher air.
Your eyes found mine.
And that was when I knew.