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Happy Monday my friends!

Yup... Monday. That means it's time for some flash fiction... and this week, we're going all smooshy! Hope you enjoy it.

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Childhood Dream

I can’t say that I’ve ever been a fan of blindfolds. Not that I’ve worn one that often. Of course I haven’t! I’m not, you know, kinky or anything. But, well, I’m wearing one now. It wouldn’t be so bad if my guide wasn’t the clumsiest man in the UK. Nor would it be so bad if we were indoors but unfortunately, we’re not. We’re outside, in the dark, wandering around on our farm.

Our farm. Even thinking those two words has caused my shoulders to shoot up around my earlobes.

“Almost there love,” Andy gives a gentle tug on my arm, steering me to the left. I promptly trip over a clump of something. Something hard.
“Ouch, shit!”
“Sorry Liz…”

My eyebrows knit in agitation. Sorry. Andy’s always saying that he’s sorry about something. Sorry for not remembering to buy milk, sorry for not getting around to mending the fence, sorry for existing...

This place was our childhood dream. We fantasised about it in our teens. We saved all the way through our twenties. And now, two decades later, the place has nearly torn us apart. Our dream turned out to be hard work wrapped up in muck and topped off with absolutely no time to spend together. I mean, we’re always together, but not together, you know?
When he told me about this evening, I thought he’d lost the plot. I mean, seriously? A blindfolded walk? But something stopped me from shooting him down. Maybe it was desperation.

Now I’m frightened. All I can hear are night noises and Andy’s steady footfall. I shiver. Why would I be scared of my own husband? Or maybe I’m scared I’m slowly losing my husband…

“We’re here.” Andy draws me to a standstill.
“Where?”
“Hang on one sec.” He’s fiddling with the knot at the back of the blindfold.

And then it drops. I am stood at the edge of the woodland on the very boundary of our land. The soft twinkling candlelight seems bright after the darkness of the blindfold.

“Happy anniversary Liz.”

I am stood next to a giant bathtub, under the boughs of the trees. Fragrant steam washes over me.

I turn to my husband and he’s seventeen again. We are lying on his bed at his parents’ house, imagining our farm life. Imagining this exact picture. A woodland bathtub. With strawberries, chocolate and champagne.

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Hope you enjoyed it!
See you soon,
Eveningart x

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^{Sources: Image from Pixbay and edited on Canva by yours truly.}