It was reflected in the clouds, ghost-like orbs passively absorbing pinks and blues and pale violets. It caught my eye on the persimmons, glowing with a ripened orange-red ferocity as they dangled -- Nature's ornaments on the branches. It made everything new, like a layer of skin peeled back with no pain at all to unveil baby. newness. innocence. It's that sliver of difference between this world and the next, that moment you hardly ever notice unless you're in it when the veil briefly slips.
And the sun sets.