Mental Picture 1

In this one, imagine a mango tree, seen from an archway, its leaves heavy with rain. Young red-brown leaves gather on some of the branches like lazy hands. Two young lovers venture closer, take pictures on the damp lawn. The air is heavy with steam, this afterthought of a downpour. I am seated on a bench with someone I barely know, and he instructs me to take a picture of the mango tree beyond the arch. It is very humid, and I am very nervous, and I could not help but apologize for ruining the moment by being a sweaty, fidgeting wreck. He tells me it is natural, and that I looked pretty anyway. I cringe inwardly. A silence follows after, in which I can feel him quietly looking at me, and I wanted to reach out and wrap my small, small hands around his, but I was not brave enough. 

There is an actual, physical photograph of that mango tree, but I wish that by the time I see it, I wouldn't be as much of a terrified wuss.