The sunlight is fleeting. Maybe the sun thinks if it disappears, so will their conversation, and maybe they'd leave happy. With the new darkness save the exposed and dying lightbulb, they sit across each other at the dinner table. Her head tilts upward, then quickly down when she sees their head still focused on their shoes.
Grandpa’s lawn had the most brilliant mushrooms. Puffballs, pink bottoms, mica caps, deer mushrooms, death caps, and many more, the names of which I did not know. I expertly deemed them fairy umbrellas. They sprouted from the ground with the dandelions and tulips. Pink tulips were his favorite; they went very nicely with his yellow house. The cherry blossom trees had just started to bloom and in the morning the light filtered through the petals and drowned my room in pink.