Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about.

 It is the deepest secret. Our fingers enlaced, we see the mountain, high above us, it is summer, the blue of the sky is terrifying, the air icy.

The cliff is smooth: a perfect mirror in the sunlight, we are alone, your red hair reflected in my eyes: you touch my shoulder, smiling, higher we climb…

How beautiful you are, at that instant, as I see the next seconds, unravelling, your smile, triumphant, overwhelming beauty, your open lips as we kiss.

The little vale is our home now, and someone else has written our story…