On the first day of May the lover takes the bus early. He winds his way back down the roads of his youth through the seven villages with the seven fountains, to a corner where woods meet road.

I know he is there, gathering from wild places lilies of these valleys, binding them fast with twined grasses.

And as he, from their past to their present, returns, fresh and light, with blooms green and white, she fills the room with baking and coffee. She spreads the white linen. Then places a vase. Twinkling.

Nothing is more wonderful than their love.

100 words - drabble

Dedicated to two lovely people, J and N, and the Vosges mountains in France on 1 May

Happy 1st of May!