Prose winner of the 2023 Creatives Flash Nonfiction Contest, kindly supported by Fort William Mountain Festival and the Highland Bookshop.
I could have travelled West. Followed the Aspen groves until they blended into the crimson desert skyline of ancient rippling rock and sagebrush, emerging from the adobes of Western Colorado, but I went East. Followed the universal tug on the bottom of my skirt, billowing along the hem like a private balloon ride. Across the plains, over the Appalachian, beyond skyscraper cities, until I was carried to the Atlantic.
‘Keep going,’ I heard within. Something was waiting just beyond the sunrise. I had no idea I was intuitively following the limit lines of your body.
Your fingertips, like Fingal’s Cave, guided me. Brown curls, reminiscent of the rippling waves of Pentland Hills, were consuming. Tattooed constellations, Glencoe’s equal. The dimples on your back, the deepness of your soul, no contest to Loch Morar.
And before I knew it, I fell in love with Scotland, then fell in love with you.