A Sunny Saturday Picnic

Carrying the folded napkin from my hoodie pocket, I walked past the laundromat to the stone porch of the Mania-Street library. Underneath the broad granite balustrade, a sheltered, square sunbeam warmed the smooth flagstones. I sat down cross-legged, unwrapping the crisp white paper to reveal the remaining triangular half of our sandwich. Nibbling slowly along the edge, the buttery cheese and crisp lettuce tasted even better out here in the quiet air. When I finished, only a few light crumbs remained, which I carefully gathered into the center of the paper, folding it back into a neat, flat square.