Plinky prompt: Pick a photograph (online or one of your own) and write a mini-story about it.
Okay, I have this fascination with clouds. Every time I look up into the sky, there’s a glorious scape that I’ll never ever see again. Completely unique, they rise above me like fluffy callouts of white smoke. I blink in the sunlight; somehow each puffy cloud makes me think of ice cream. I lifted my camera to take a picture.
the lens shut with a click that always gives me a little thrill.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Never without your camera,” I heard in the voice that will never ever fail to make me smile. I turn around and am surrounded in the warm and comforting arms of Brian. He’d been my best friend for four years, and my boyfriend for two. A quick kiss reaffirmed that it really was the best day in the world.
“Whatcha taking pictures of this time?” he asked.
“The clouds,” I replied, “they look so pretty don’t they?”
“Yeah,” he said as he looked up. “But they don’t hold a candle to you.”
I blushed. “Heh, thanks.”
He took my hand and said, “Hey, I had this idea. It’s pretty crazy, but you gotta let me know what you think.”
“Okay, shoot.” I said.
“Alright here it is.” He continued. This was his style, he always prefixed his so-called ideas with a long explanation and disclaimer.
“Well I’ve known you for a long time, years, right?” I waited for the punch line. “So I know you’ll give me an honest answer. I mean, you’re perfect, you’re everything to me, you’re… I love you.” and suddenly he was down on one knee holding a diamond ring that sparkled up at me.
“Will you marry me.” He said. Not asking, just stating, waiting for an answer. Although my mind was still racing, I said yes.
The last thing I remember is looking up at the sky, into it’s perfectly formed vanilla clouds pouring down sunshine on me and my fiancée. I was happier than I’d ever been. I was content, and I was with the one I loved. I never forgot those clouds, and every time I look up into the sky I remember the brightest most perfect day of my life.
