Certain facial expressions can instantly bring a lump into your throat. Certain phrases can tie a knot in your stomach.
“I hate to have to tell you this…”
“I’m really sorry, but…”
“Why don’t you sit down.”
Then comes a forever moment, shaped like all your deepest fears.
Take heart.
Hope wasn’t a talented dancer, but a massive crowd was gathered around the field, watching her sway and leap.
“Park’s closing!” advised a groundskeeper. “She’ll still be here tomorrow. Always is.”
“Does she ever stop?” asked a tourist.
“Not in ten years. Just slows down a bit now and then.”
They camped out on the side of the mountain, within a stone’s throw of the moon. A campfire warmed their bodies; anticipation warmed their hearts.
Tomorrow was the summit day, the flag-raising day. The pinnacle. The peak.
Beyond that was the descent, so aptly named.
Reminiscence is colder than anticipation.
This story is based on a title suggested by @brucerytel.