"Tell me. What do you want to be when you grow up?" Hernan asks. I shake my head, squeezing the milk out of the box. "I don't want to grow up. I'm happy with being a kid. This way, I don't need to think about anything," I reply. We pause for a while. "Grownups can do whatever they want. Doesn't that excite you? We can watch television for as long as we want. We can spend all night staring at the sky and no one would bother looking for us," he tells me. The earnest in his voice catches my attention, so I look at him and ask, "When you become an adult, you spend all your days working. Why do you want to grow up so bad?" He suddenly turns his face towards me that our noses almost touch, "Because when I do, I'll be able to marry you." I blink my eyes and look away, the faint song of crickets at a distance. "Sure," I replied. And we stay there lying down the roof, for tomorrow, he leaves. We savor the remaining hours trying to figure out constellations we learned in our Science class until his mother calls him for dinner.
YOU ARE READING
Before Nightfall
Short StoryA promise abandoned by time, but was never forgotten. Will Aurora and Hernan see the sunset one more time, or was 60 years ago the last one...
