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“Laugh, I am an idiot,” I say, my voice tinged with a mix of jest and earnest. I stride back to her, dropping to one knee in the pooling water and taking both her hands in mine. “But love is a fool’s task, and I am its willing jester.” Her smile, though tinged with fatigue, radiates through the encroaching gloom. “Love?” she asks, a whisper in the vast silence. It’s a question tinted with longing. “What else could define us?” — Nicole Tsopo
Laugh, I am an idiot,” I say, my voice tinged with a mix of jest and earnest. I stride back to her, dropping to one knee in the pooling water and taking both her hands in mine. “But love is a fool’s task, and I am its willing jester.”
Her smile, though tinged with fatigue, radiates through the encroaching gloom. “Love?” she asks, a whisper in the vast silence.
It’s a question tinted with longing.
“What else could define us?