a quiet afternoon

We met at the corner that afternoon. It was still warm out; the sun was hazy. I kept squinting to look at you from out the corner of my eye. We walked down my street, past all the light-colored houses. Birds were chatting in the trees. A few puffy clouds were scattered across the sky. We didn’t know where we were going, but we kept just talking about light subjects. We talked a little about school and projects and sports. Eventually we hit the end of my street and decided to walk down the fenced-in sidewalk to the tunnel. The water that flooded it posed a bit of a problem, but we skipped through it using the sides of the tunnel itself and the rocks that laid on the water, barely reaching the surface of the murky water. After we got out and continued on the sidewalk we talked a bit about church. Nothing too specific, just about the activities that she’d recently attended. Soon we reached the busy street and decided to walk to the local café. During summer, we always ended up there. Drinking water filled with ice cubes and chomping on freshly baked cookies we discussed religion. After a half hour or so of that, we decided to walk to the hill over the railroad. We sat, feet hanging off the bridge throwing rocks into the creek below. It was a peaceful scene. Eventually we slowly made our way over to the hill where I found a rolled up dollar bill. After that, we walked home.