Cheeks, tender as flower petals, a saturated blooming color. Eyes, wide and expressive. Thick fringes of lashes dancing across skin. A voice so piercing yet hypnotic, swirling in joy. Head thrown back, face to the sky, welcoming the embrace of the golden rays. She is slowly spinning, feet so thoughtlessly placed. Faster and faster she turns, until she is forced to crumble to the dewy, vibrant grass, ornate with the blossoms of spring. Her chubby fingers graze over the smooth, white petal. One by one, she plucks the petals off. They dance in circles to the ground, the wind carrying them. She giggles in delight. The wind deposits them near you. You close your eyes, feeling the breeze caress your pale face. The wind’s touch lingers—your hands reach up to test its presence. Silence. Your eyelids unwillingly open. The girl is lying in the grass. Her hair splayed out like a fan, fingers curled loosely around the bare stem. You glide over to her and fall to the earth. She acknowledges your presence with a hint of a smile tugging on her lips. You close your eyes with satisfaction. A giggle slips from her lips, and it starts again.