It Happened in the Sunshine

. . . When I Closed My Eyes

The mid-afternoon sun fell through the upstairs window onto the comfy chair. Finding the invitation irresistible, I sat down, leaned back, and closed my eyes. Blanketed in sunshine, I fell into a false sleep through which I could hear the pitter-patter of production all around.

When the little girl with golden hair shrieked and fell from the top of the garage, landing with a thump, I considered opening my eyes. Instead, I scrunched them tighter. The clanging of the firetruck assured me help was coming. The girl would pull through fine as ever as she always did, perhaps with a new scratch or two.

The clatter of cars lining up was the next sound to invade my not-quite-nap. The orange-haired girl with freckles would be manning the red open-wheel racer. The boy with the orange ball cap and permanent smirk would drive the yellow prototype. Owners who never left their assets would drive those remaining cars. I didn’t have to look to know. The engines rumbled. The race was on. I turned my face into the sun.

Then, there was only silence until the floor creaked in front of my feet. Two hands planted themselves on my knees, and I opened my eyes to see my favorite three-year-old face searing his intensity.

“Grandma, come play with me now.”

I came.

* * *

Photo by Courtney Chestnut on Unsplash

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