I saw a guy on top of the styrofoam sledding hill watching the sun set. He seemed like he was in a special place, like Stonehenge or somewhere. When we walked around the other side he had a softened beatified smile, or maybe he always looks like that. The sun glowed red. The smoke was coming again and we knew it had not really dissipated but we wanted the twilit hopeful feeling like the other pilgrims seek even though we're locals. The wind brought the fire grit to my eyes and I wanted to run home, but we had to be careful in the crosswalk.