Buildings reflected in the car window, I see the whole city or, at most, what it had to offer. You know, a person can’t see much other than these busy streets; Structures of praised concrete divide up the roboticly repeating grid, so no one can see beyond them.

The car stops along a sidewalk, people’s legs mingling in a blurry image. I get out, and my mom hands me my suitcase. Slinging the backpack on my shoulder I say, “By mom…” The busy street contesting the volume of my speech, “See you next week, and I love you,” I repeat like many times before. A horn blares at a gutsy pedestrian crossing.

“I love you too sweetie! Have fun with uncle Vernan!”

My mother spewing kisses and final goodbyes, I walk up to the familiar overhang: The lobby under my uncle’s sprawling pent house. I knew it would take him awhile to get me at the lobby, so I waited taking in the fabric of the rich carpets.

My uncle was certainly rich, and he enjoyed every moment of it. He was probably up there playing with some fancy toy or redecorating one of his many fictitious-like rooms. I’ll just wait then. Pulling out my writing utensils, I sketch some of the passerby. They collimate into rough shadows dotting my pizza stained page.

The door dings, and I look up at the cue. Exiting the red velvet and gold embroidered elevator, My uncle makes his appearance. He flaunts a grey, formal tuxedo lined with darker brown stripes that make an elegant pallet. On his suit, there is a shiny black over coat, a single inaccuracy in the fabric not showing, and, on his head, a stumpy top hat is unaligned.

His face, like classic Santa Clause imagery, shares reddish blush on his cheeks and nose. His hair is white and crisp although he is not as old as he seems. Approaching me, he says, “Ahh, Ms. Flowers, lovely to meet you again!”

“Don’t call me that. Lets just go up.”

Gather my items in my bag I follow him into the spacious and luscious elevator. Inside, it dings and we wait. A vacuous rumbling sounds as we move up. Uncle Vernon leans towards me, “Well… I have some toffee you might love! I purchase it at this quint shop at the corner of…” I stop listen after I pocket the candy. I don’t think I’ll eat it later.

Exiting the elevator, a lavish view greets us. Frilled cloth of crimson tassels hang on the wall in the vibrant red front room. To the left, a blue hued room opens up, a peacock strutting across the fine, sapphire carpet. And, on the right, a bright yellow room magnificently shines like the sun.

He parades me through the overwhelming rooms showing me his wealthy items, a grin on his face as he eagerly awaits my expression. Unimpressed, I go to the balcony; The only place in this building I actually like.

The view was amazing, over all the towers and sky. I try to sketch it, but I can’t quite capture the scope of view. I hear the door open behind me, a defeated look laying on my uncle’s face.

“You didn’t like any of my apartment?” He sits next to me.

“No, not really. It’s all just.. too much,” I say keeping my gaze to my paper, a peacock crying inside.

He relents, “I always thought so.” His face droops. I have not seen him as sad since he lost his beloved puppy.

“I wanted to show you one last place,” he says tentatively. “It’s nothing like this view, but… I enjoy it much more,” a warm smile replacing his sorrows, he breathes.

“Uhh, sure.”

Uncharacteristically, he leads me back out of the apartment, uncaringly knocking over an expensive vase. Down the elevator shaft we travel and onto the street.

“This isn’t in your apartment?”

“Correct, it is not!”

We quickly make our way through crowds, and I almost loose him. But, sitting on a chocolate brown bench in a park, I see him enjoying a nibble of toffee. I sit down next to him.

We do not speak, but he seems to enjoy our time. Watching the foot walkers, the glistening shrubbery and trees, the sounds of children having fun, the sweet smell of summer air, I take it all in.

I reach into my pocket and grab the toffee. Chewing the sweet with him, we share the afternoon.