In loving, living memory, John Melançon 1928 – 2007
Yesterday, around 6pm.
In the widest and flattest part of the horizon looking from my grandfather's porch, the sky is a light orange-red from the sunset, and silhouetted seagulls danced on the horizon.
Now why couldn't i have said at least that to K, instead of "thanks for getting me to step outside, i don't know what the birds are doing in front of the sunset but it's beautiful." ?