20:56

You turn your back for just a second, and then it's happened. Suddenly the world is green, and warm, and alive. Suddenly scarves and jackets cling to your steaming skin, and there's a smile on peoples' faces you have not seen in months. The cherry trees bloom, the magnolias, the daffodils. Trees that you saw barren just yesterday sprout dewy clusters of baby leaves; the city shimmers in chartreuse.

I peeled off layers of warm winter clothing, pulled out a blanket from deep within the closet's back shelves. We packed the cups, the wine, the food, the sunglasses and headed to the church at the top of the hill, to the golden spot at the peak of the city that last would see the sun set. We milled among the hundreds, buried ourselves in the burgeoning grass, stared straight into the sun, and we laughed.

That this is what comes, after all those months of perpetual darkness and death. I don't want to say it's worth it... but it's hard not to, she said. I rolled another cigarette, breathed the smoke and heat and spring deep into my lungs, felt the panic in my gut evaporate into the breeze. The mess inside remains.

But for this one sweet moment,
it is powerless.