Nearly one year of rapid-fire planning, scrounging, pulling together every little bit like building sandcastles, and when we moved to the next tower, the tide took away the last. Torture, some might call it. Just chaos, I’d reply. But that’d be forgetting. Because just for a moment as she walked down the aisle, the waves—everything—stopped. The limestone pillars toppled, the polished floor fell away, and our families disappeared. So for that moment, it was she and I alone, in silk and stone and lavender. Only she and I and the light dancing across our faces.
This post is a part of Think Kit, a labor of love by SmallBox marketing that provides a blogging prompt once a month. This prompt was called “Remember When…”
In a hundred words or less: time to dig into the memory bank – share something that sticks out from the past. A smell, a scene, the space between childhood and the present. Make it concrete, make it messy, or make it colorful. You have 100 words: be solid and succinct!