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“So…It’s…Sunday.”
“Yup.”
“And…We’re doing nothing…?”
“Yup.”
“…”
“…?’
“…A day well spent.”
“Totally.”

That was a normal conversation between one Dana, and Dillon. They were both lying down next to each other under the huge maple tree in Scotch Dale Park, one warm Sunday afternoon. Soon after this conversation was finished, a comfortable silence rested upon them, and they both took that time to just simply, enjoy the day, and each other’s company.

Surrounding them, were kids of all ages, from toddlers playing in the sand box, to a group of teens smoking near the gate. No matter what the age, the park always seemed to bring together everyone from their tiny town.

Dana liked her little town. She knew almost everyone in it, and everyone knew everyone else. That’s just how it went. If you moved in, you knew almost half of everyone after a week. You don’t know how you know them, you, well, just do. And that’s how everyone knew, that if they need ether Dana, or Dillon, just looked under the maple tree at the park.

“Hey…Dillon?” Dana asked slowly, as she flopped over to her side, arms stretched out above her, and she watched her friend look at her from the corner of his eye.
“Yes?”
“How long, have we been laying here?’
“Dunno.”
“Ah.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. Just…wondering.”
“Suit yourself.”

And with that, Dillon rolled back onto his back, and continued staring at the clear blue sky. Dana, seeing no more responses will be coming, sighed quietly to herself, before she too turned back to the sky.

And that is where they still relax at, everyday, like a silent oath made between them, ‘You don’t ‘not come’ to the tree. You just come.’ And they left it at that.

And each and every day, they came to that tree. They lay down under that tree, and watched the clouds go bye. On rainy days, they got drenched. On snowy days, they got covered with it. But, they still went there, with no problems.

Until, Dana didn’t come one day.

It was a sunny, Tuesday afternoon. Dillon was walking over to the tree, when he noticed Dana wasn’t there. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, but he ignored it, thinking she was running late. So, he lay down, and soon, the hum of the children’s babbling, and the leaves rustling slowly lured him to sleep.

He suddenly awoke with a start, when the sun was beginning to set. Yawning, he looked around; still no sign of Dana. This was…weird, to say the least. Where was she? However, laziness soon took over his concern, and is slowly stood up, and trudged home, his empty stomach grumbling all the way.

The next day, Dana still wasn’t there. Now, Dillon, though he wouldn’t admit it, was a bit curious, but, he just figured she was late. So, he layed down, and, once again, lost him to sleep. This time, when he woke up, it was when a red ball came crashing into his face. Jumping up, he spluttered out nonsense as his black glasses slid down his face, one lens slightly cracked.

“Sowwy Dillon!” A four-year old cried, as he waved his hand at the startled boy. Dillon blinked slowly, before picking up the red ball behind him, and standing up, he jogged over to the little kids.

“Here. Next time, try to aim. Nice kick, by the way.” He chuckled as he passed the ball to the boy and his friends. He yawned a bit, before his stomach grumbled loudly, causing a few eyes to be switched over to him.

“I think you might be a bit hungry, Dillon.” A parent chuckled, and Dillon smiled, a it embarrassed, before he slowly trudged home.

He never noticed that Dana wasn’t there.

Soon, this happened everyday, and with each day, Dana never showed up. Dillon slowly started to forget about Dana, but, he still went to the tree, everyday, even after he had long forgotten why he did it.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into Months, and years passed by. Dillon grew up, and soon graduated high school, and went to a college in the next state over, where he stayed until he got his masters degree. He started his own business, which quickly grew into a hit, producing electronics.

A year later, he got married to a blonde haired girl, named Marie. They bought a country style house, and, two years later, had a pair of twins running around it. Their names were Michael, and Gloria. They loved to explore the outside, and their favorite activity? Playing under the maple tree in the back yard, which Dillon and Marie watched from the porch.

Years passed, and the twins left the house, Gloria going to art school, and Michael to law school. Dillon’s company was going great, and he and his wife had enough money to last them the rest of their life. Yet, they decided to, rather than lie around at home, or in a retirement home, to travel the world. So, each going on fifty years of age, they sold their house, before hoping on a plane, ready to see the world.

And that they did. They visited a shrine in Japan, the outbacks in Australia, played with local children in Africa, and hang glided in Chile. Soon, they were traveling the whole world, hoping to visit each country. They tried chocolate in Switzerland, gazed at Paris from the Eiffel Tower, and fed a young, wild panda in China. However, soon Marie grew sick, and she passed away in Luxembourg.

Dillon, respecting his deceased wife’s wish, buried her in her favorite place they traveled, in China. And, true to his word, he continued to travel the world. And, after many years of plane rides, and disposable cameras used up, he had done it.

At the tired age of 92, he made his final plane trip to where he grew up as a kid. He rent a small room in a local hotel, and, he trudged over to Scotch Dale Park. Under the gate he went, he took in the sight. Nothing had changed. There were parents on benches, talking, children playing and laughing. Those teens smoking on the other side of the park were still there too. He chuckled to himself. Things never change.

And there, in them middle of the park, was the old maple tree. Its leaves bright green, the same color of the grass. The whole image seemed melancholy to him, but, he enjoyed it.

He slowly inched over to the tree, and collapsed against it, his back leaning against it, before he slowly inched down, so he was laying on the grass. A perfect blue sky lay overhead. He faintly heard footsteps coming closer, and, finally turning his gray-haired head, he saw a girl, brown hair in a messy ponytail on the side of her head, bright green eyes twinkling.

She too sat down, and stared at the sky, as she kicked off her flip flops, which flopped somewhere away from them. Soon, a comfortable silence landed around them, each of them enjoying the other’s company.

“So…It’s, what, Sunday?”
“Yes, it is.” His aged reply was, as he closed his eyes, enjoying the beautiful day.
“Around…What time?”
“Why do you ask that?” He asked.
“Oh. No reason.”
“Ah…”

And, silence happened again, as they layed their, under the bright golden sun, and green leaves of the tree.

“Hey…Dillon?”
“Yes?”
“I missed you.”
“Same here Dana. I missed you too.”

One week later, at the maple tree, people dressed in black mourned together. There, one week ago, Dillon had passed away. People from all over came to the funeral. People who worked for him, who he once worked for, fellow business men, and people he’s met from all around the world came, and watched as she slowly was lowered in the ground next to the maple tree.

Hours passed, and the last of the mourners, Gloria and Michael, had left to return to their own respective hotels, and get ready for their trip back home. Only two people still stayed there. Two kids, one with black glasses, the other with bright green eyes, and messy brown hair. They watched everyone leave the grave, before turning their eyes towards it.

“So…Another Sunday, eh?” This time, the boy started talking.
“Yup! Another brilliant, sunny Sunday.”
“Ah…Sunny Sunday…” A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
The girl giggled childishly too. “Mmmhmm. I love sunny days.”
“Same here.”
“So, what do you want to do today, Dillon?”
“What we normally do Dana, what we normally do.”

The next day, people were treated to a sight, of two children, one with black glasses, and a wild mane of black hair, and a girl with green glasses, and brown hair, stared at the sky, both of them next to the tree, and the boy next to where the old man was buried. Some thought of it as rude, the others thought it was nice. But no matter what they thought, they kept to themselves.

Soon, it was the afternoon, and both children were still staring dreamily into the sky.
“Hey…Dillon?” The girl asked, after a while.
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re back buddy.”
“Same here Dana, same here.”

Fin.

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