The story of one proposal
We were both looking at our bare feet when he asked me this, sitting on my iron bed with our backs to the wall, peeling paint off it with our every move. He had come after lunch, as he always did; we spent our afternoons here looking at the sky through the pregnant windows and playing with our sleeves, while the rest of our group headed for their hour of siesta. We could never sleep in the afternoons and barely through the night; we were saving sleep, as we believed we would not be tired enough to sleep forever in death.
“I don’t know; the story of our lives would be much different then. Time would be on our side; we would have time to get bored, to daydream, to fight and to annoy one another. If it was so, I would want to evaluate all of the downs before asking you.”
“You do know you just asked me to marry you Madeliene?”
“Yes, but time isn’t on our side.”
“Do you know you are supposed to be nice to everyone now that you know that death is imminent?”
“Oh darling, no. So tell me, will you?”
Story credit: Vogue Italia.