We were 2 minutes away from my apartment. For some reason, we missed the junction. I chuckled a little. This is becoming a norm with alarming regularity, us getting lost despite knowing exactly where we need to go.
That’s ok, he said.
I’m trying to prolong the moment.
We both became quiet.
Prolong what? Us getting lost? I joked. We both laughed.
The moment was lost but the unspoken hung pregnantly in the air.
I closed my eyes and let it slid.
Strangely, the thought of being lost along an unending road with him, though a little alarming, doesn’t seem weird or tiresome.
Sh*t. I’m in trouble.