That afternoon the sunset was unusually resplendent. Purple and gold, it spread to the horizon where rolling, amber sands merged into saffron skies. Anne’s boat, its henna sail lurid against heaven, floated upon a sheet of solid gold. Solid gold, Anne’s gleaming hair as, hatless, she crouched weeping in the stern beside Vittorio. While purple clouds faded into black and black and gold fused into lacquer.
That afternoon the sunset was unusually resplendent, but Anne wept because Alexis was no longer there to see.