Surrounded by the smell of fresh bread, I watched the dancing colors of the evening sky from the kitchen windows. My whole workspace was illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. I was interrupted from my admiring by pattering feet. Hazel, head full of chocolate curls, ran towards me.

She said, breathlessly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Mama”.

I bolted, my stomach churning with emotion. Hazel tailed me, struggling to keep up.

Alynna’s room’s door was wide open. Surrounded by children’s toys and books, a  single bed stood. The setting sun pierced the curtained window. It’s light illuminated the figure lying in bed, Hazel’s mother.

Alynna was pale, her face drawn;  her dark hair golden in the setting sun.

I touched her forehead. My stomach dropped.

“You’re burning up!” I exclaimed, horrified.

Alynna took our hands, kissing them consecutively.

“I love----” she uttered, taking a last, rasping breath.

Hazel and I reached for her, the three of us locked in a last embrace.

The stench of burning bread filled the air. My ears started ringing and my mouth tasted sour. The sun finally set completely, and enveloped us in a dark unforgiving cocoon.