Sunsets and Short Stories

A lovely evening to linger outside on the terrace (fn1), stare at the sunset-lit skies, put myself on mute (fn2), and join a small, private videoconference featuring a friend (fn3) reading aloud some of her short stories.  For all its ills (literally), this pandemic has played host to some moments of beauty.

Her selections of late have been quarantine inspired, or tinged with post-apocalyptic threads.  Some grim and sobering themes.  Interestingly enough, on this particular evening, this particular day, one selection, "The Parade," had all of the children disappear into thin air.

Resonant.  Art imitating my life this Friday.

But as the sun sets, so it rises on a new day.  Here's hoping that for everyone that knowledge stays top of mind and ever present, even when outside it seems dark.

Fn1: (after harvesting herbs to accent dinner)
Fn2: (to tune out the occasional background sirens and helicopters and building mechanicals, and avoid their interrupting the reading)
Fn3: (who will be heading off in the Fall to earn her masters in creative writing)