The starlings mesmerized us as they danced a whirling dervish in the dusky orange sky.
We sat in relative silence as the sun slowly sunk below the bungalow roofs.
We made small talk and enjoyed the evening air and each other’s company, even sharing ‘twos’ on cigarettes.
Up until today, Mum’s always been a ‘mum’,
but all of a sudden we’re ‘hanging’ like friends ‘hang’.
The orange glow ebbs into shades of lilac, purple, and deep dark blue.
“The stars are coming out,” Mum noted.
“It’s still warm.”
“I was about to ask if you’re warm enough.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I smiled.
“What time is it?” I asked.
Mum checked her phone. “Almost nine.”
“Maybe I should put something else on,” I said as I uncrossed my legs,
sat myself up, and re-inserted my foot into the shoe that had been dangling from my toes.