one night we were famous.

we danced that night. casually, but yet for the entire world to see. i hap picked you up in those fields, wind-swept and sunburned. i had taken you into the city and shown you the wonders you had always missed on your previous visits. we walked the gardens outside the art museum and then meandered downtown. we ate a restaurant that would not be considered nice, but it was refreshing to be away from the mainstream, prepackaged normalcy of the usual. then, in that restaurant, an old time melody crossed through the discreetly hidden speakers and captivated each of us. i had no choice but to stammer the obvious, "would you like to dance." at first you looked at me as if i was attempting to play some cruel joke, but seconds later the realization crept over your face that i was serious. you giggled like a young child and took my hand. as we stood the eyes of every after-work business man and his second-rate stay at home wife shifted from their meaningless conversation and locked upon us. the texture of your dress was rich against my arms as i held you, gently swaying to the music as one tiny corner of the world admired and resented us. we knew in their beat-up suvs and foreign cars the conversation would revolve around us, "those two young kids who just stood up in the middle of dinner and began dancing, oh, to be young, etc." we knew it too. we could feel it from the sets of eyes as we paid the bill, stood and left. i continued to draw looks as you were in the bathroom, absent-mindedly flicking a tooth-pick with my tongue. i held the door and the city sky felt alive, electric. we went through fits of laughter as we walked out into the streets, knowing that for that one night we were famous. unknown celebrity that would be looked upon by others who had been there and would recall in their minds the two young kids that weren't to afraid to dance. the two who weren't afraid to be young and in love. the two.

listening to -

viva la vida - coldplay (starting at lost and then just playing.)