Flash Fiction Friday: Kayaks are Not a Good Place for Major Life Changes
I'm honestly not sure where this piece came from. I was thinking about the kayaks a nearby state park has available for rental and somehow this happened.
“What do you think?”
I break out of my daydreams. “What?” I ask, a knee-jerk reaction. I look around, orienting myself with my surroundings again. I’m in a kayak drifting along a wide, slow-moving river. Trees span the banks on either side. Next to me is my fiancé, Ryan, staring at me with an intense expression.
“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” I expect his voice to be accusing, but it’s not. He’s used to my mind wandering off and taking me with it. I think back, trying to remember anything he’d said over the last few minutes—or hours, who knows how long he’d been talking—and come up blank.
“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.”
He chuckles. “I was just thinking, what if you moved in with me?”
I jump so hard the kayak almost capsizes. Perhaps an open river wasn’t the best place for discussions of major life changes. “Are you sure?”
“Why not?” He shrugs his shoulders.
I think about moving my stuff into his little two-story house on the edge of town. It’s a nice little place, nicer than mine, with an actual yard and a wrap-around porch. My make-up would go into the medicine cabinet with his shaving cream and cologne. My extensive collection of cooking implements would join his smaller collection in the kitchen. My television could go into the bedroom.
Our bedroom.
I shiver and it’s not from the cold wind. I paddle gently, pushing my kayak in his direction. I want to kiss him now and it can’t wait until we’re standing on solid ground again.
I lean over the side of my kayak as he leans over the side of his. I don’t notice that the river is getting shallower and shallower until the bottom of my kayak scrapes against a large rock hidden below the water’s surface.
I bounce, throwing my weight onto my hand for balance. My hand leans against Ryan’s kayak, causing him to lose his balance and tumble into the water. He reaches for my kayak to catch himself and manages to flip me over.
I burst to the surface in the warm river, spitting water from my mouth and laughing. He bobs up next to me and we hold each other with one hand and our kayaks in place with the other.
“You didn’t have to throw yourself into the river if you really think it’s that bad of an idea,” he says.
“Shut up.” I kiss him again. “I’d love to move in with you.”
“What do you think?”
I break out of my daydreams. “What?” I ask, a knee-jerk reaction. I look around, orienting myself with my surroundings again. I’m in a kayak drifting along a wide, slow-moving river. Trees span the banks on either side. Next to me is my fiancé, Ryan, staring at me with an intense expression.
“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” I expect his voice to be accusing, but it’s not. He’s used to my mind wandering off and taking me with it. I think back, trying to remember anything he’d said over the last few minutes—or hours, who knows how long he’d been talking—and come up blank.
“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.”
He chuckles. “I was just thinking, what if you moved in with me?”
I jump so hard the kayak almost capsizes. Perhaps an open river wasn’t the best place for discussions of major life changes. “Are you sure?”
“Why not?” He shrugs his shoulders.
I think about moving my stuff into his little two-story house on the edge of town. It’s a nice little place, nicer than mine, with an actual yard and a wrap-around porch. My make-up would go into the medicine cabinet with his shaving cream and cologne. My extensive collection of cooking implements would join his smaller collection in the kitchen. My television could go into the bedroom.
Our bedroom.
I shiver and it’s not from the cold wind. I paddle gently, pushing my kayak in his direction. I want to kiss him now and it can’t wait until we’re standing on solid ground again.
I lean over the side of my kayak as he leans over the side of his. I don’t notice that the river is getting shallower and shallower until the bottom of my kayak scrapes against a large rock hidden below the water’s surface.
I bounce, throwing my weight onto my hand for balance. My hand leans against Ryan’s kayak, causing him to lose his balance and tumble into the water. He reaches for my kayak to catch himself and manages to flip me over.
I burst to the surface in the warm river, spitting water from my mouth and laughing. He bobs up next to me and we hold each other with one hand and our kayaks in place with the other.
“You didn’t have to throw yourself into the river if you really think it’s that bad of an idea,” he says.
“Shut up.” I kiss him again. “I’d love to move in with you.”
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