The sticky, summer heat hasn’t left the air, even though the sun left us hours ago. My flashlight cuts through the night to find branches, brambles, and the ever elusive hem of her dress as she skips ahead, showing the way to some secluded spot she assures me is something special. Her words, mostly.
She slows up ahead, twirls once, then stops. She’s finding it. We must be close. I pick up my pace, narrowing the gap between us, and she skitters off again just as I’m close enough to reach out and touch.
The trees clear, and the brush beneath our feet turns to solid stone. At least, solid stone up until the edge, where the rock face drops ten feet into a lake. She stands at the cliff’s edge, so close her toes almost curl over. Breathless, chest heaving, she looks back to me, her grin stretching from ear to ear.
“What do you think?”