The sky was changing, from light blue with thin strands of white to pink and purple and blue. But it was so genuine and new. I didn't know if it was the beer or the fact that the sky was unbelievably beautiful now. I looked at the pond and saw a pink reflection sinking into the waters. I ran out of film.

I quickly paced to the swerve of the park, racing with the clouds and the darkness of the end of day. I made it to my neighborhood, walking alongside stray cats and hopping birds with seeds falling out of their mouths. A man with a looped belly stared as he wiped his sweaty forehead and a woman picking up sticks near her mailbox didn't turn to greet me.

The mystery man's lights were beaming through his closed blinds and I felt his eyes. The weeds were plucked and thrown on the sidewalk; my sister was sitting with her muddy feet up against a chair. The sky was gray and mosquitoes blurred my eyes like a camera out of focus, and I hugged the shadows of the black garage.

My mother's image in the car replayed, the way her ears resembled mine, the way my ears resembled hers and how my hair droops down along my head. I fell in love with her and the way the black leaves appeared separate from the sky, unlike an oil painting. The world was all that it is...and I saw it for that moment.