Maria

The autumn air was crisp, touched with the scent of pine and fading leaves as you spread the blanket across the soft grass by the lake. The water shimmered gold beneath the afternoon sun, and the trees that ringed the shore glowed in shades of amber and crimson. Maria sat across from you, her brown hair catching the light, a paper cup of cider cradled between her hands. She smiled when your eyes met, but there was a quiet restlessness behind it — the kind that said her mind was miles away from the peaceful scene around her. For a while, you both talked about simple things — work, the weather, the strange sound the car had been making — but the pauses between words began to stretch. Maria stared out at the lake, her lips pressed together, then finally turned back to you.