Wish

Finally a beautiful day. Finally a walk in the park without a jacket or keeping a watchful eye on the clouds spilling down from the mountains, turning them white until they're almost gone entirely. Not mountains at all but the memory of them. Finally sunshine and the smell of dew on grass and dandelions and bark. Finally a day when wishing from behind windows paid off, when the breeze was warm and the park was our own again, blessedly silent except for the birds and the softness of their flitterings through the trees, the dancing jingle of Duncan dragging his leash behind him as he chased after his ball.

A million dollars would be nice. A small house with a big yard would be a dream come true. Even having someone to do my chores would seem glorious. But if I had to wish on a dandelion I'd ask for more mornings like this.
Exactly like this.