Rainbows in blue

A few hours before dawn, quiet jazz was playing on the lawn. Dozens of red lanterns were hurled at the sky, and everyone watched in silence as they became one with the stars.

And it was six in the morning. The salty sea faded softly into the sky and the frothy waves threatened to drench her indigo. Little golden leaves around her neck caught the sun and trembled in the wind. She didn't really need that glow. In the tangerine light, she squinted to see the lagoon. The moment was hazy and clear like they describe in songs. There was laughter. It was the laughter unique to mornings.

That laughter is unique to the beginning of things.