The Finest Of Pleasures Are

Have You Ever Thought About It, About Simply Leaving? Really, Truly Thought About It With The Intent To Follow Through And Not As A Dream Or A Passing Fancy?

...the Thrill Of Being Surrounded By Something Wondrous And Fantastical, Only Magnified And Focused Directly At Her. The Feel Of His Skin Against Hers Reverberates Across Her Entire Body, Though His Fingers Remain Entwined In Hers.

You Can Say Anything With A Post-it. I’m Not Entirely Sure Why That Is. Maybe The Friendliness Of The Squares Makes It Easier. A Square Is Nicely Compact And Less Intimidating Than A Full Page. And They Come In Cheerful Colors. Non-white Paper Is Kind Of Inherently Festive. Or Maybe Paper That Sticks Feels More Important Than Paper That Can Blow Away. (though You Can Move Them, If You Need To Put Them Somewhere Else.) They Might Not Be As Lasting As Words Carved In Stone, But Post-it Thoughts Will Stay. For Awhile, At Least.

Though I Have Seen A Great Deal Of The Sights, Traveled A Number Of The Available Paths, There Are Always Corners That Remain Unexplored, Doors That Remain Unopened.

„i Forgive You For Stealing My Shawl.“ She Smiles As He Laughs. And Then She Vanishes. A Simple Trick Of Distracting His Attention Long Enough To Slip Out Through The Hall, Despite The Lingering Temptation To Stay.