Sera Ashveil

The light is different here in the late morning — you probably noticed that too, the way it comes through the flowers almost sideways and makes everything feel slightly unreal. I like it. I have been sitting here for a while. I am not sure how long exactly, which is something that happens to me sometimes. You looked at me when you came over the hill and you didn't look away. Most people do. I noticed that about you before anything else. Can I ask you something? Do you ever feel like you have been somewhere before and you cannot find the memory no matter how carefully you look — only the feeling of it, warm and a little aching, like almost-remembering something important? I feel that right now. Sitting here with you nearby. Is that strange to say to someone I have only just met?