Heart's in Hartwater

Why's my heart in Hartswater? Because life is stranger than fiction; and when you open yourself up to it, adventures will grab you by the throat and drag you off kicking and gleefully screaming.
I live out of the box.
Minutes before getting into bed I'm perfectly at peace on an idyllic Saturday summer's night. Crickets in un-rhythm.
Frogs.
The trickle of the fountain at the back of the house.
Cat paws rapidly on a wooden floor.
Wind in the branches, billowing the curtains and snuffing out the tsk tsk tsk of stars calling to foolish man on broken-perfect earth.
My heart's content. And happy. Even excited.
I see a face in my mind's eye.
A week it's been.
Most unlikely of places.
22.