It’s one of those amazing desert nights. The temperature is perfect, the wind is just this very slight breeze, the desert smells because of all of the blooms and plants that are soaking up the recent rains are just incredible. We’re sitting in the pool, just enjoying a glass of wine, talking, and watching the bats fly around, getting their early-evening feast.

“There’s one!” you whisper, and point to the west – I can just make him out against the incredible orange skies as the sun settles in and the last bits of color leave the sky.

They had half an hour to kill before their dinner reservation and the small second-hand shop across the street was still open. It seemed like a good place to wander while they waited.

She had rewritten the speech at least five times. He watched as she starting changing words again, then closed the window and stomped off.