The warmth of the early summer sun bathed the lawn at No. 6 Fox Street, where two swings had mysteriously appeared at some point. Two children, dressed in costumes, were seated on the swings, each cradling a small bowl in their hands. They scooped up spoonfuls of pearl fruits, small as the tip of a little finger, while swinging. The glistening fruits disappeared into the gaping mouths of their costumes, replaced by the sound of the children's joyful laughter.
Not far from the swings, under an oak tree, the silver-haired priest Lina leaned against the tree, sitting on the grass. A novel lay open on her thighs, her long silver hair cascading over the pages, fluttering gently with the light breeze.
