She sits in her college class one night a week after work. This is one of the classes that builds her career. She likes to learn. She is diligent and conscientious and does well. But tonight, her mind drifts. Blame it on a long day. Blame it on a dull topic tonight. But mostly it is because of him that she can't really focus tonight. He is always in her thoughts these days. Time has done nothing to dull her ardour. She has never loved anyone like she loves him. And her mind drifts to moonlit meadows...
The moon is nearly full. It is one of those magical summer nights where it doesn't really cool down. it is almost ten o'clock and the temperature hovers near 80 degrees. Intolerable, perhaps in the house but here in the meadow, in the moonlight, it feels like bliss.
They sit on a large plaid blanket. It's old and worn. Soft against their skin and tattered in places. The remains of an impromptu, late night picnic have been returned to the paper bag, a temporary picnic basket. A bottle of wine has appeared in its place. They have forgotten wine glasses and take turns with the bottle. They are not drunk. Not yet. But they both feel a little lightheaded and giddy.
Suddenly, she looks at him with all the seriousness, she can muster. "Oh my God," she exclaims, "Do you know what I forgot?"
He's not worried. Her face is too expressive. There is no crisis here. She is flirting, he thinks.
"What do you forget?" he asks gently, wondering where it's headed.
A wicked grin spreads across her face.
"Underwear," she says.
He raises his eyebrows.
"Is that so?" he asks, playing along.
