Although it was late September, the sun was warm and the paths dry. Having walked this trail a hundred times, the boy could easily recall the scenery each new turn brought. He and his father were on their way to see their mother, as they did every Sunday. But today was different; today they came bearing gifts. His father carried a picnic basket full with fruits and sandwiches, and the boy held some flowers that he had picked from their garden back home. It was his mother’s birthday, and the family planned to have dinner and watch the sunset together. After a few minutes, the boy spotted the hill where his mother lay. “Hurry along” the father called to the boy, as they crept up the hill. Once they reached the top the father pulled a blanket from the basket and stretched it across the overgrown grass. The boy walked over to greet his mother “Happy birthday mother” he whispered as he propped the flowers against her gravestone. Then the boys sat down and ate their sandwiches, enjoying each other’s company in silence, as the sun receded past the horizon.
cooked up by vision+voice
