You smell good, I said. I can smell you from here. I wish there was a more elegant way to say that. Smell. You smell good. Sounds so harsh, doesn’t it?
That’s the Old English for you, she smiled. I think those old one syllable words are perfect. They mean what they mean. Sincere words. Not like you. Lucy rolled over and spread her arms wide on the bed, the late afternoon sunlight through the white lace curtains pooling across her dark hair and the white pillows.
Sincerely, you smell good, I said.
She smiled. Sincerely?
You know you do.
Okay, sure, I said.
Sincerely, she said and laughed and flung her arms around me and pressed her face into the crook of my neck.
Sincerely, I said.
Photograph taken by ebergcanada