Livora Gracely

The girls had a schedule.

Nobody knew who created it.

Nobody remembered agreeing to it.

Yet everyone followed it faithfully.

The first rule was simple:

Eat dessert before making important decisions.

The second rule was even simpler:

Laugh first.

Ask questions later.

This system had produced mixed results.

Mostly wonderful ones.

On sunny afternoons, the four friends gathered beneath the old tree.

They talked about everything.

Future plans.

Favorite snacks.

Whether clouds had jobs.

The usual important topics.

Photographs were taken frequently.

Many of them made no sense.

Several would later confuse future historians.

This was considered a success.

One afternoon, somebody asked:

“What is the difference between youth and Wi-Fi?”

The group thought carefully.

For almost six seconds.

Then one girl pointed toward the road.

“Neither works properly when parents arrive.”

The discussion ended immediately.

Nobody could improve the answer.

The swings moved higher.

The laughter became louder.

The afternoon continued doing what afternoons do best.

Years later, they would forget most of the conversation.

But they would remember the feeling.

The tree.

The sunlight.

The friendship.

And the strange certainty that happiness was something you could accidentally create simply by showing up.

💛

Life goal number four remained unchanged:

Make memories that don’t make sense until later.

The girls considered this one of their greatest achievements.