A Golden Silence

I flipped the phone off, placing it gently on the table as Damon did the same. "Who was it?" I asked him.

We're by the lake, rounding up an enjoyable evening's walk by taking in some of the sights and Saida (Sprite). The sun is setting slowly but surely, bathing all with a soft, golden ambience. The wind blew softly, gently, gently.

I felt inspired enough to make a phone call to a friend in Malaysia of the setting, knowing how she would enjoy such a scenario. Damon made a call at the same time, yabbering away in Chinese to someone.

"Kirsten," he said, cracking open his can of green tea. "Ahh," came my reply, slowly nodding. "I thought you might have called your girlfriend."

"Waiyo?"

"Well," I began, my gaze tracking two ducks chasing each other across the surface of the lake, "it's such a nice setting. Romantic, even. I figured you might have called your girlfriend to tell her of that, and that you're thinking of her or something."

"No, it's not good."

Now it's my turn. "Waiyo?"

"If I call her and tell her that, she will be angry. It is not nice for me to be here and to tell her that I'm in a nice place right now, because she is not with me."

"Ahh," I mused, sipping my Saida. "That's a good point."

Should've thought of that before I called my friend, then.