My silly little desire.

I can see myself, curled around a cup of coffee as the sun goes down. He, whoever he is, is sitting beside me, his arm around me. We watch the stars burst into being and soak in each other. He gets up and waves me inside. We are both exhausted from the day. I still have work to do, but I know that he will go inside and shower and sit in his favorite chair with a new book. Perhaps I will bring him something sweet. He tells me not to every night, but I know he loves me for disobeying. I stand up and follow him inside and sit down at my computer, gazing down at the flour caked around my fingernails. I smile down at my keyboard and plunk out a few lines and hear him rummaging in the kitchen. I stand and follow the sound of rustling plastic sacks and point him towards the living room. He obliges and kisses my cheek, leaving me with the hint of strawberries tickling my nose. A strawberry cupcake with cream cheese frosting ought to do the trick. The thick paperback in his hands is a sign that everything is just as it should be in the world. Another light kiss on my lips and I am dizzy with delight, wobbling back into the kitchen to prepare for the next day.

For some strange reason, I have kind of begun to desire a bakery. I love to bake and it would be cute to have a little bakery in a small town. Preferably by a lake. With the man I love. Preferably. Ah well. Silly desire.