Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

The sunset was too beautiful. It almost made Lena
feel panicked because she couldn’t save it. The
blobs of paint on her palette, usually inspiring, looked
hopelessly drab. The sunset burned with a billion watts
of light. There was no light in her paint. She put her
palette and her carefully prepared panel on top of the
wardrobe so she didn’t have to look at them.
She perched on her windowsill, gazing at the lurid sun
soaking into the Caldera, trying to appreciate it even
though she couldn’t have it. Why did she always feel she
had to do something in the face of beauty?
She heard the bustle of a feast being prepared downstairs.
Grandma and Bapi were celebrating their arrival
with a big meal and a bunch of neighbors. Her grandparents
had sold their restaurant two years ago, but they
hadn’t lost their love for food, Lena guessed. Spicy, rich
smells, one after another, floated upstairs into Lena’s
room, mixing together for a preview of the full meal.