The setting sun, iridescent gold, flaunts its tail like a peacock, and we, like peahens, bow our heads in praise. Choose me, we plead with wide eyes and pale feathers. Come back tomorrow.

But the sky grows darker still, and soon, the day is an echo of birdsong on the horizon, lost in the spinning of the world.

Katie McHugh is a writer from Long Island, NY. She is the recipient of Boston University's Florence Engel Randall Award.