Sweet

As she was plotting where on the river wall she’d build her hut, Rose spotted a man and a woman walking hand in hand. The man and the woman were staring at each other so lovingly and intently that the man tripped over a raised brick in the pavement and fell to his knees. The woman giggled as she hoisted him up again and kissed his cheek.

“Jackpot,” Rose said.

Sage nodded and scooted ahead, falling into step a few feet behind the couple. He opened the blue jar and held it up to the back of their heads, trailing behind as close as he could without running into them.

It worked for a few seconds, until Sage sneezed and the man whipped around. “What are you doing, kid?” he said.

Sage snapped the jar closed so as not to catch any less-than-sweet whispers in the almond butter. “Uhhh. . .”

Ty jogged over to Sage. “You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Ty said. “He’s collecting fireflies.”

“But it’s the daytime,” said the woman.

Ty covered Sage’s ears with his hands. “He thinks he’s collecting fireflies,” he whispered. “Poor kid hallucinates fireflies wherever he goes. Carries this jar everywhere and just keeps swiping it through the air. We don’t have the heart to tell him the truth.”

The man and woman nodded sympathetically as Ty removed his hands from Sage’s ears. “You keep chasing those fireflies, son!” the man said, rustling Sage’s curly red hair. The pair waved and headed off towards the Eiffel Tower.

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