Prompt: Meadows, the beauty of love songs and love stories, hidden or mistaken identities, the poetry of song lyrics, there’s gotta be something worth mining there, right?
FIONA and ANDREW lay in the meadow in the park across the way from school. They are looking up at the clouds. They are cutting class, but it’s gym class so it doesn’t really count.
FIONA
You ever think about who the meadow belongs to? Like, it’s city property, but it’s maintained by volunteers, and people who aren’t the city or the volunteers use it all the time.
ANDREW
Not to mention the insects and wild animals.
FIONA
Or the indigenous people that our ancestors brutalized and exiled.
ANDREW
I don’t think it can belong to anyone. The meadow is just the meadow. People preserve it, people can claim it, but the meadow just is and… all we can do is enjoy it while we’re here.
FIONA
I missed talking to you.
ANDREW
Me too.
FIONA
It’s weird. It felt like our story was just beginning but it never went anywhere.
ANDREW
Yeah, well, our story is like the meadow. It just is and all we can do is enjoy it while we’re here.