“Quit your job!” you told me. You ran into the kitchen, flinging your leather jacket on a chair. “We’re going on a road trip!”
You kissed me, a hungry kiss filled with future. Then you held my hands and said you wanted adventure.
“I’ve seen too many movies and read too many books to be stuck in a shithole like this!” you said. “I want to live, to see.”
You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sloshed it about as you painted our future. I watched, mesmerized, as you spoke of volcanoes and pilgrimages, of towns without technology, of sunsets and sunrises, of ancient burial sites and jungles with snakes and orang-utans. You looked so beautiful. Your face glowed with dreams of the future as you spoke of coral leafs and waterfalls, an underwater paradise.
From Divya Ghelani: Roots. In: Literally Speaking, issue 2, 2019.