As the sun was setting, Brett wandered through the streets of his neighborhood.

He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a walk that extended past the length of

his own driveway. It actually felt good to see

other people, other houses, gardens, swing sets, children laughing, playing tag in

the streets. Brett was disappointed in himself for not making more of an effort,

not just in his wife and children's lives but in his own. How pathetic that he had never

even walked around his own block.

After about an hour the sky was a wash of pink and violet.

The slow summer sunset painted the canvas of the sky and seemed to slow down. the slow

sun set painted the canvas of the sky and seemed to slow down time.

A slight haze hung in the air, pierced only by the sharp sting of the odd

cicada calling to one another.

Brett needed this.

He needed to clear his head.

Hands in his pockets, meandering aimlessly through the neighborhood streets.

As he rounded a corner, there were some children playing on a front lawn,

dancing and jumping around trying to avoid being hit by an older brother that was quite intently trying to soak them with the garden hose.

As Brett walk closer, he could actually smell the scent of the wet water on the grass,

the aroma of water seeping into the poorest surface of the sun-baked sidewalk.

Suddenly, he was thirsty again.

But before he could turn around and head back towards home,

a long stream of water splashed right across his

...