They hiked into a four foot high amphitheater. The
rosy stone curved down to clean sand, damp where the
shadows fell, animal tracks lacing into the wetness and out.
Honey sat and looked up at him. He stepped aside. The sun
flooded her face.
"Thanks," she said softly. "That feels good. Come
sit by me, babe. Please."
They sat in the good strong light, eating apples and
drinking warm beer. Below them, the seep dried. The tracks
remained. Honey brushed her hair away from her face. She
was golden. The climb had reddened her cheeks, trail dust
shimmered on her skin. He brushed it gently away. He
couldn't look away. He wondered what she would see in his
face, if she turned to look at him, if he couldn't look away.
They climbed to their feet and moved on. - Delicate
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