I wasn’t sure why we were in that jeweller in the first place, as we sat in the park, bathing in the golden sunset, my hands fiddling with some wildflowers I plucked. She was beside me as she stares off into the setting sun overlooking the lake.

We were sitting in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. We were never awkward together. Just smiling, enjoying each other’s company, talking without actually talking. Until she broke the silence.

“I would marry you even with a ring made of earthworms,” she said, expressionless.

I laughed. She always has these one-line wonders, whenever she speaks. It’s gold.

“Of course you would,” I smirked, “The ring I propose to you with will be something like that — able to decay and give back to the earth, nourish plants that give food to animals. It would be a ring that gives infinitely to life as it cycles — not a cold, dead, carbon rock that is stubborn, lifeless, and of valueless value.

“Love built on capitalism and mindless desire is shit love.”

It was her who fell over with laughter on the grass this time, unable to recover for some time. When she finally did, she turned to me to say something but I stole all the words from her mouth. I was on my knee, a ring made of wildflower stems in my hand.

“Sorry, it’s no earthworm…but will you marry me?” I smiled sheepishly.

She stunned for awhile before realizing what was going on. “Yes, of course I will!” she cried almost inaudibly, her voice cracked so much that it was near voiceless.

Well, what do you know. When she speaks, it’s indeed pure gold to my ears.