She loved sunset almost as much as he loved the dawn. The sky was a faultless shade of blue, the clear frozen colour ignited a strange eruption in the pit of her stomach that caused her to let out a sigh of unbridled peace. The few clouds that marred the void were luminous threads of pale gold and white as fine as spider silk, deepening in the west and blazing with retina-searing orange. The world was beautiful, the city of San Francisco set aflame and dazzling, the air bracingly cold; it was the cusp of the New Year, according to Earth's solar calendar and Western tradition, and to Kirk that meant one thing.
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Phrases
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