On a Wednesday morning when the sun is shining, it's hard to make myself feel like working. Or even driving to work. So I'm shaving it fine, drinking coffee until the last possible moment, looking out the kitchen window into the back yard.
The grass is becoming green again and a few hardy dandelions dot the lawn. Damn. Maybe I should call in sick. Spring fever. Call Walter, tell him to come over and play. I wish. Time stops then, and the scene outside changes...
It's summer now, July at least, maybe August, and the livin' is easy. We're in a field, no houses around, on a blanket in the grass. I'm sitting cross-legged and Walter is stretched out, propped up on one arm. Lazily, we blow dandelion clocks to tell the time. It's hot and a little breezy, so we're in shorts and Walter's taken off his shirt. It's a good look for him, with his perfect pecs and brown skin. Maybe Baywatch is hiring. A few seedlings settle on his stomach and I brush them away.
Dandelions really are a triumph of evolution, I tell him. The way they have us make up legends about them so we'll propagate them just for fun. He doesn't answer, just starts to laugh, falling down onto his back. He looks so completely comfortable that I join him. Flat against the warm earth, only our heads and shoulders touch a little as our bodies angle off, hour hand and minute hand. We look for pictures in the clouds, only there are no clouds, just sky-blue sky and the burning sun. Reaching out, I take his hand, feeling his strong fingers wrap around mine. We'll just lie here forever...
Suddenly, I realise time didn't actually stop and now I'll be late for sure. Leaving the coffee, I race around grabbing my stuff, and head out to the car.
I'll let the dandelions live this year. And maybe Walter will be free for lunch.