They walked, hand in hand, across the top of an infinite hill dotted with occasional bluebells. Having had the euphoria of reaching the top, they’d sat a while, drank a liter or more of Coca-Cola with rum, and walked, woozily, along the hill. The grass was cut short and evenly. It was so symmetrical, it almost had the appearance that each blade had been cut with nail scissors. It had been early in the afternoon when the four of them: Dylan, Johnny, Suzie and Amy, had decided to take a short walk out of London, to see the countryside, to clear their heads. But the evenings hour was now quarter past six, and they didn’t know where the hell they were.
But, drunk, with friends, with more alcohol, and with a clear sunset, they didn’t seem to care. Dylan’s legs ached, but the alcohol sorted that. Johnny’s headache was getting worse, but the fresh air cleared it. Amy’s heart was breaking, but Dylan made her feel better, and Suzie was, well, she was just as joyful as usual. The elements were the perfect antidote to their ailments, and they were happy. Really, truly, happy. Happier than any of them thought they’d ever been.
Perhaps this happiness was so elating due to the fact their first few months of University had been somewhat testing There had been Dylan trying alcohol for the first time, and Dylan then being sick. Suzie had tried to cook the first meal of her life, resulting in all four of them missing the second weeks lectures with food poisoning. Amy had tried to, drunkenly, sleep with Johnny. Twice. And Dylan, for the first time in his life, thought he might have fallen in love with a boy. Suzie had also declared her love for Dylan as he began to discover his new found sexuality, resulting in a bitter argument between them all. The group had been divided more than once, and, rather stereotypically, it had often been the boys against the girls. Johnny had confided in Amy about his feelings first. But she had told him to grow up. She thought it was little more than a poor excuse to fob off Suzie’s affections. She hadn’t understood, and she never would.
So, Dylan had resorted to finding solace in Johnny once more. He’d explained about his sexuality, and Johnny had understood. Little did he realise that he was the object of Dylan’s affections, but that didn’t matter for the moment. Dylan was just happy to be near him, touch him, hear him read his poetry, or accidently graze his hand. There was nothing like the thrill of being young, in love, so, so madly in love, and knowing that, when you decided to tell them; the person you desired so would feel the same.
Having been new friends, the past six months had tested their resolve to the extremes. But they had come through it stronger, and better friends. And, walking across this hill, they all thought that there had never been such a perfect moment of happiness before. Ever. Not even at the end of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life.’ Never.
After they’d walked for another five minutes or so, the sun had set into the ground, and the clouds were beginning to get so low, they thought they may be able to touch them soon. So Dylan stopped and pulled on Johnny and Amy’s hand. Causing Amy to lose grip, and breaking their chain for just a second. He told them he was tired, and they concurred, so they stopped by a patch of young bluebells and lay down in a four figured circle. And with the tips of their hair, and the tips of their fingers touching, they all shut their eyes simultaneously. Within five minutes, a slight headiness having overtaken them, they’d fallen asleep. They were all silent, and , silently, they dreamt. And they all dreamt of one moment, in which they were walking over the hill, and laughing. They dreamt for hours, dreaming of one moment over and over, again, again, and again.
When they awoke, it was raining heavily, and their clothes were sodden and cold. Their shirts clung to their skin and the once perfect hill had now become a boggy marsh of mud and dead bluebells. Disorientated, and still drunk, they tangled their arms up once more and began to descend the steep hill. After five minutes of nearly falling, they decided that it would be easiest to roll down.
Suzie went first, throwing herself down the hill and squealing with laughter as she gathered speed. Amy followed, instinctively, and then Dylan and Johnny threw themselves down. Rolling at frightening speed, they all screamed, and laughed, wheezed and squealed, none aware that this would be a moment they’d remembered forever.
After conquering their dizziness, they stumbled around London for a while. Trying to decipher where they were was hard enough now it was night, and it was certainly not helped by the rum and the rolling. After a further hour, they found their way back to the University and their flat, and practically crawled into the kitchen.
They were tired, cold, wet, and drunk. But in their beds, still they dreamt of bluebells, of sunsets, and of laughing upon the hill.
But, drunk, with friends, with more alcohol, and with a clear sunset, they didn’t seem to care. Dylan’s legs ached, but the alcohol sorted that. Johnny’s headache was getting worse, but the fresh air cleared it. Amy’s heart was breaking, but Dylan made her feel better, and Suzie was, well, she was just as joyful as usual. The elements were the perfect antidote to their ailments, and they were happy. Really, truly, happy. Happier than any of them thought they’d ever been.
Perhaps this happiness was so elating due to the fact their first few months of University had been somewhat testing There had been Dylan trying alcohol for the first time, and Dylan then being sick. Suzie had tried to cook the first meal of her life, resulting in all four of them missing the second weeks lectures with food poisoning. Amy had tried to, drunkenly, sleep with Johnny. Twice. And Dylan, for the first time in his life, thought he might have fallen in love with a boy. Suzie had also declared her love for Dylan as he began to discover his new found sexuality, resulting in a bitter argument between them all. The group had been divided more than once, and, rather stereotypically, it had often been the boys against the girls. Johnny had confided in Amy about his feelings first. But she had told him to grow up. She thought it was little more than a poor excuse to fob off Suzie’s affections. She hadn’t understood, and she never would.
So, Dylan had resorted to finding solace in Johnny once more. He’d explained about his sexuality, and Johnny had understood. Little did he realise that he was the object of Dylan’s affections, but that didn’t matter for the moment. Dylan was just happy to be near him, touch him, hear him read his poetry, or accidently graze his hand. There was nothing like the thrill of being young, in love, so, so madly in love, and knowing that, when you decided to tell them; the person you desired so would feel the same.
Having been new friends, the past six months had tested their resolve to the extremes. But they had come through it stronger, and better friends. And, walking across this hill, they all thought that there had never been such a perfect moment of happiness before. Ever. Not even at the end of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life.’ Never.
After they’d walked for another five minutes or so, the sun had set into the ground, and the clouds were beginning to get so low, they thought they may be able to touch them soon. So Dylan stopped and pulled on Johnny and Amy’s hand. Causing Amy to lose grip, and breaking their chain for just a second. He told them he was tired, and they concurred, so they stopped by a patch of young bluebells and lay down in a four figured circle. And with the tips of their hair, and the tips of their fingers touching, they all shut their eyes simultaneously. Within five minutes, a slight headiness having overtaken them, they’d fallen asleep. They were all silent, and , silently, they dreamt. And they all dreamt of one moment, in which they were walking over the hill, and laughing. They dreamt for hours, dreaming of one moment over and over, again, again, and again.
When they awoke, it was raining heavily, and their clothes were sodden and cold. Their shirts clung to their skin and the once perfect hill had now become a boggy marsh of mud and dead bluebells. Disorientated, and still drunk, they tangled their arms up once more and began to descend the steep hill. After five minutes of nearly falling, they decided that it would be easiest to roll down.
Suzie went first, throwing herself down the hill and squealing with laughter as she gathered speed. Amy followed, instinctively, and then Dylan and Johnny threw themselves down. Rolling at frightening speed, they all screamed, and laughed, wheezed and squealed, none aware that this would be a moment they’d remembered forever.
After conquering their dizziness, they stumbled around London for a while. Trying to decipher where they were was hard enough now it was night, and it was certainly not helped by the rum and the rolling. After a further hour, they found their way back to the University and their flat, and practically crawled into the kitchen.
They were tired, cold, wet, and drunk. But in their beds, still they dreamt of bluebells, of sunsets, and of laughing upon the hill.