Pomme Terre

"Are we lost?" I asked Cliff.

"Wandering, not lost."

I wasn't concern. That was a vacation and we were in no hurry. I enjoyed those aimless walk, with my fingers locked with his, weaving into cityscape with high rise buildings or suddenly finding ourselves in a slum area. I like to be seen with Cliff and how he held my hand in public, as if to make it known to the strangers in a strange city that I belonged to him.

"... and of course, so that your hands are too occupied to do something else." Like lighting a cigarette.

"Does it bother you?"

"No... or maybe a little bit. But I am not asking you to stop."

He leaned down to kiss me, as an assurance that he accepted me just the way I was. I dabbed my lips with my sleeve. "Wet," I explained with a smile.

"Haha, no apologies for that. Your lips are cracking, I am just doing you a favour. Drink more water. Otherwise I would have to moisturize them again..." He said with a cheeky grin.

Indeed, we got lost. Apparently the network connection was choppy, might as well rely on common sense rather than follow a GPS guide that was accurate to 20 metres two minutes ago. Cliff consulted the GPS on his phone again, when a boy approached us with a basket in his hand.