These Are Hard Times For Dreamers Like Us

Devon turned to look at Loretta at that moment. He took note of the way her wavy black hair was blowing out of her face with the slight breeze. He thought her hair looked better away from her face.

Loretta turned her head and met Devon's shining eyes. The setting sun set a glow about him that she hadn't noticed before. She liked the way his brown and blonde curly hair looked with the sun shining on it.

It was getting a bit too dark to draw now, so she set her pencils and sketchbook to the side. Devon continued to strum away on his six-stringed instrument, plucking random notes here and there, nodding his head with the rhythm.

"God, Devon." Loretta shakes her head in awe. "You can make anything sound good on that guitar."

"Well, you can make anything look amazing with that pencil of yours." Devon smiles at her, pushing a few stray curls out of his face. She shrugs, blushing the slightest.

Devon and Loretta discuss their dreams of going to New York City. Devon wants to just play his music; just sing and play his guitar on the streets. Loretta wants to sell her art; she wants to be a famous artist. They both have the talent, but the world is such a vast place.

Loretta sighs. "These are hard times for dreamers like us…" she says.

He chuckles. Loretta loves the sound of his rumbling laughter. It's a beautiful sound, really.

“Yeah, it is.” Devon gently pats her on the knee reassuringly. "But we can make it. I know we can." He smiles.

Eventually, Devon sets down his guitar. He takes her hand.

The sun was almost below the horizon. As Loretta and Devon stare at the sunset, from their view on the top of the hill in their small town, they dream of adventure and their story that has yet to be told. Together.