har-ish

I imagined a fern meeting the river under the cover of night. Its fronds stretch toward the water as if drawn by some quiet, inexplicable longing, while the river carries on in its restless blue scribbles. There is no particular reason for their meeting, and perhaps there doesn’t need to be one.
Some of the sweetest encounters happen in places where they have no business happening at all-much like a sweet encounter once upon a time in a server room. Perhaps unlikely places have a way of making certain moments all the more delicious.