Harry sprinted up the stairs and back down a moment later. “I can’t do this.” He muttered before muttering “Oh yes, you can,” and sprinted up the steps again. By the time he reached the landing, he was completely out of breath. “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do this sort of thing?” He shouted, head tilted upward.
Harry had been a self-talker since the second grade. He may seem insane to others but to him, those two characters – the angel and the devil – are very real and they help craft his every decision include this one.
Once he was no longer huffing and puffing, Harry pulled out a black box from his coat pocket. “I can’t believe this is happening. Think she’ll say yes?”
In the twenty-nine years he’s been alive, Harry had never expected to meet a girl like April, especially in a place like Italy. He’s not the kind of guy girls like April – smart, beautiful, and out of his league – would fall for.
The voices in his head were now in deep discussion. Harry groaned and shouted, “Will she say yes or no?”
“Well, maybe if I see the ring first.” April said behind him.
A Response for Sunday Photo Fiction.