Something they will still have in ten years.
Give them the places on earth where their two skies agree. You need nothing from them but their names.
Give them the places on earth where their two skies agree. You need nothing from them but their names.
A certificate with your name on it. Yours within the hour.
Nothing to look up, nothing to ask anyone.
Pick a map and pay. We never ask for their birth details, so there’s nobody you have to text.
Email it with a note, or print it and put it in a card.
They add their birth details whenever they like. The keepsake follows within the hour.
Nothing ships, so nothing is late. The certificate is with you within the hour. If the wedding is tomorrow, you’re fine.
You don’t need their birth details. Just their two first names, for the certificate.
Not only for weddings. An engagement, a first anniversary, or two people who just bought a place and have a bare wall.
Six places fills a wall better than three.
Where the two of them are at their most in love. The places their lines light up for romance and adventure, each with a written page of its own, plus the map itself to print, with both their names at the foot.
Both books in one. The three for the trip they take next and the three for somewhere they could stay, six written pages, and one map holding all of it.
Where the two of them could actually stay. Not a week away: the places their charts make a home out of, whether that turns out to be somewhere to settle, somewhere to spend a winter, or the one they keep going back to. Each with a written page, plus the map itself to print, with both their names.