Perfect Day (I)

The day started just like any other bright, halcyon day. The sky was a brilliant turquoise, the sun a radiating amber. The water on the crystal lake was still except for a few, gentle ripples the duck caused as she floated aimlessly on the water. The sporadic trees were moving gracefully with the breeze. In just this moment, this hiatus of time, everything was perfect; still as if captured forever by film.

We were simple hoi polloi people; neither rich nor poor, geniuses nor imbeciles, distinguished nor careless. Although we were a heterogeneous group of five, we shared at least one thing in common: we were hedonists. We viewed the stunningly vivid day as a good harbinger. The sun was shining, almost spotlighting the park, marking it a hallowed harbinger to us. That was what drew us there.

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