7.18

Clark leaned over, well into Emma's space, pushing that infernal camera right up against the plexiglass. She had woken him, not the camera, to see the sunrise over the ocean, a thin band of orange fire that faded so quickly to ultramarine that she wasn't even sure how that pallate could mix so quickly and yet remain so distinct. Looking out across the vast ocean of hot, orange cloudtops past Clark's excited fist, Emma saw shapes of nothing drifting by, spinning and disintegrating, and the shape of her future, too excited by sharing the moment to actually look, slowly solidifying.
The ring still felt heavy and new as she spun it on her finger. She said her head against the arm he had snaked behind her head, ruining the stability of his shot momentarily. She kissed the inside of his elbow and went back to wondering how orange becomes blue.