The summer air swirled warm around their skin, the heavy late-July humidity faded out slowly with the pastel colors of sunset leaving purples in its wake. They ran barefoot, racing to nowhere with no urgency at all, curling their wet toes into the cooling grass like it was second nature. The winking stars pushed laughs out of their empty stomachs, wildly uncivil, they told themselves there was no better time to forget than now.
Now, you see there was nothing like now to them, this new feeling, letting go. Later, they tried the word freedom out on their tongues, rolled the syllables between their teeth, tasted its flavor like oranges, whispered it in the dark, trying to remember what it felt like. Breathed it in and out, smiling when they caught it for a moment, running their fingers over it's textures, memorizing all the bumps, the holes, pouring themselves into the crevices. Doing anything, anything to remember.
Time itself had stopped to look at them, paused to watch the way they moved liked rivers, how their smiles echoed in the dark, tumbling up hills, and moved on. The night danced with them, when they finally shook their hair down and sang with the moon, the wind swept them off their feet into the worse kind of love. Loving something you can never have again.
But it was enough. It was all the magic they would ever need.
Your emotion and the looking on the beauty of life and the happiness of it all.