A Picture Worth Four Words

A Picture Worth Four Words

Everything was perfect. The time was 6:25P.M. Allen had been setting this up for months. The location, the ring, the girl, especially the girl, was too good to be true. Lucy was an old soul. She loved everything old-fashioned and wore everything from her teenage grandmother’s closet. She was dressed in a gray-slate sweater set and a charcoal pencil skirt. Her ensemble was crowned with a brilliant, scarlet, felt-tipped hat; complete with a black, silk ribbon. Her cinnamon braids twisted and bent as she looked over her shoulder, back at Allen; tantalizing him without even knowing it. His heart pulsed and thudded when her scent frolicked across his nose.

Allen observed her with reverence. The site was so serene. Her silhouette was framed by the tangerine-glow of the sun; which made her stand out as the night does from the day. His gaze was hypnotized; his motion transfixed. It was as if she moved in slow motion. Her grace was incomparable; even to a gazelle. She was an angel among men.

He brought her to the meadow they both loved. The field was laced with wild flowers. Their fragrance fell between the billowing blades of tall grass. The pond beside their favorite tree rippled with anticipation, as if it knew Allen’s plan. Leaves rustled in their branches gossiping about the two lovers. They had hiked there as children. They shared their first kiss. And now, he would hopefully add another happy memory to this place.

Lucy could not swallow the delight she felt. The love that had been shared in the beautiful setting could be felt in the breeze that brushed against her cheek. The rays of the setting sun were cooling as the light they detained abated. Old, gnarled trees took residence there and dimpled its refinement. She was glad to be with Allen and ecstatic he was there to share that with her.

Lucy was a wonderful photographer. She could not wait to capture the beauty inside of one perfect moment in time. The light was just right. The atmosphere and attitude of the new evening was matchless. Allen was beyond compare. She could not think of a finer setting she would rather be.

Allen watched Lucy as she set up her camera. He loved to watch her work. The look on her face of pure concentration and study was the one he adored the most. The way she knitted her eyebrows together with pure focus was so fetching. Her full lips were in a pout of frustration as she tried to find an even spot for her tripod. He offered his help, but she rejected it with the flick of her delicate, ring-less hand.

When she finally settled in a place she liked, she let out a sigh, as if she had been holding it the entire time. Now it was Allen’s turn to breathe. In with the brave, out with the weak he told himself. The time was nearing. With either answer she made, it would be the beginning of a new life for both of them.

She stepped up to the camera and focused the lens. He steadied his hand around the box. They inhaled at the very same instant. She counted to three. On three, Allen held the open ring box up before the lens. Lucy only saw the twinkle of the bulb. She thought a shadow had crossed the scene.  She missed the ring completely. Allen did not have the courage to try again. He was too disappointed that his romantic gesture had been unnoticed and overlooked.

Lucy had seen what had happened. She had known all along how and when he was going to propose for his sister was a loud speaker. She asked Allen if he would take the next shot as she moved and directed a tangle of weeds. As Allen counted down, Lucy quickly and quietly unfolded the answer to his silent question. On the wink of the bulb, Lucy had revealed in the picture a simple, hand-written response: Yes.