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He sits between his parents - Dad on his left, Papa on the right. The air is quiet and serene, the birds settling down for bed. His fingers fiddle with the tassels on the blanket below, breathing in the sweet smell of flowers as his toes sink into the soft earth, eyes on the setting sun. He loves watching the sunset with his parents - they always debate. Papa loves how it always begins, with the bright oranges and reds, but Dad’s favorites are always after the sun has set, and the colors a gentle pastel.

He stays for a while, long after everyone has left, after the sun finally sets. He waits for the sky to turn dark before he sighs, standing up slowly. “See you.” He says softly, patting the headstones of his parents before turning away and heading home.

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