This is what happened. We stared up at the sky and saw that the tall trees were leaning down towards us with the sun captured between the branches. The sky was a picture-perfect blue. There was a breeze. At our sides bees were sucking nectar out of tall lavender that swayed to and fro. The wide wooden steps that served both as tables and chairs for us smelled good. Some of us, I, were lying on our backs facing the sky. Others lying on their sides, facing each other – their skies. Conversation buzzed and whispered and murmured around us. Our conversations. About history and suicide watch and divorce. Whether it is right to defame a statue of an evil person. Whether history is sacrosanct. The typicality of our lives.
Laying there, with the sun and the friends and the breeze and the bees I felt peaceful. I captured the trees that had captured the sun in a gesture of peace for the peace that I felt, preserving it forever.
Is it ironic to state that my sky will not be marred?