Parked in an empty lot by the docks, watching the calm water glisten as the sun set to an intensified orange. The sun slowly slipped, turning the sky shades of light blue, green, purple, and pink. Only ten minutes later, the color was a darker, a deeper version of itself—a stack of food-colored pancakes. We watched the pancake sky fade as the night bled black, illuminating the stars and moon which reflected off the harbor. Our hypnotic trance broke when my phone buzzed and brightened his 1990 red Chevrolet S-10 with a text from my mom. It was time to come home.