Hold That Sunrise

He and She looked over the balcony at the eastern sky, one not-quite-starry night, and gazed at the light that brightened the sky over the nearby city of Anacortes. The skyshine was brighter than usual, and they wondered if there was something going on in the city.

The next morning, He went to the window of their apartment and looked at the same patch of sky. Which was ablaze.

He: Hon, come look. Anacortes is really in trouble now.

She: Wow. Where’s my camera?

She dashed out in her stocking feet, took one shot and then:

She: I’ve got the wrong lens. Hold that sunrise while I get the right one.

He: Hold that what …?

But She was already vanished into the spare bedroom where she kept her camera supplies. Moments later, She was back on the balcony, happily snapping. When She came back into the apartment, She was beaming, her pictures on file.

She: Thank you, honey!

He: Perhaps we should talk about your overstated view of my abilities.

Looking toward Anacortes from Cantilever Point on San Juan Island

She: But I knew you could do it! And you did!

He: Right. If I’m going to be dewing things, I’d better work on my ability to make water.

She: Love, I’ve heard you when you go to the …

He: Hold it right there …!