The young apple blossoms hesitate to bloom as they pretend heedless to the luring whispers of the early morning breeze. Mark has been watching, listening to the soft but tuneful blow of the wind.

Anna hesitates to walk towards the apple tree where a young man has been standing upright, his head cocked. She feels the wind dance beneath her billowing skirt. Her chest rises, pushing against her fitted blouse. Her feet starts to jolt forward.

Mark turns his head and catches late the sight of Anna running toward him. One quick second, she’s running, and the next she’s jumping on him. Mark has caught her legs that are now clutched on his hips. The air dances into scattered waves, blowing the apple blossoms into full bloom and whooshing Anna’s hair on Mark’s face.



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