Boots

Thomas tipped his head back towards the sun and inhaled deeply. Around him, the sounds and smells of the woods enveloped and soothed him. The path beneath his feet was dry enough to be firm, but wet enough to provide the occasional satisfying puddle to stride through. His boots were perfectly broken in, and perfectly waterproof. His backpack was a comforting weight on his shoulders, a tangible reminder that he had prepared well and brought everything he would need. The glory of nature, the pleasure of movement, everything he could want was his in this moment.

Twenty meters behind him, Ella shifted her weight from one aching leg to the other, and took another gulp of water. She watched his happiness with a smile, and the knowledge that this relationship was doomed before it had even started.