I folded the carbon slip and slid it into my shirt pocket.

Oak Creek Park was nearly empty at a quarter past two.

The swing sets hung still in the cold wind.

Dried leaves fell from the big oak tree and landed on our wooden picnic table.

Emma sat next to me.

She wore a heavy navy blue sweater with a thick collar that came up to her chin.

I peeled the wax lid off a paper cup of strawberry swirl ice cream.

The pink swirl peaked in the center.