Two houses stand side by side, bathed in sunlight. One has no plants; the other overflows with gardens.
One looks worn, dim. The other gleams in a cheerful blue, almost insolent.
From the sadder house, a boy steps outside. He wears a backpack and a pale blue uniform, as if ready to leave.
He takes a few steps. Then he stops, right at the edge of the garden. He looks down, far below, as though the ground held something he does not dare touch.
A long moment passes. He turns halfway back, defeated, and returns to the house.
Before he can enter, the harsh sound of a door cutting through the air makes him stop.
It's the other house. From it comes a girl, perhaps a few years older. She stands on one foot, playing at not falling. Then she hops into the garden, light.
The boy cannot help but look at her. He watches her with a mix of strangeness and unintentional attention.
The girl notices. She stops playing and looks back at him.
She keeps smiling. There is something unsettling about that lingering expression. They remain like that, facing each other, for several seconds.
Then an inner tremor sounds: the boy's hungry stomach. A brief, embarrassing noise. Heat rushes to his face.
The girl laughs softly. She can't help it. Her eyes shine with an unexpected tenderness.
Panicked, the boy hastens inside his house. He flees from her gaze, afraid she might be laughing at him.
The girl stays outside, still smiling.
Perhaps it was a pleasant moment.