The way the fermenting melons in the entryway filled that slick dark space with their fecund ambrosia.
and then
The way the tiny woman's cowlick and dark blond shine so perfectly matched that of the little boy in her carriage.
and then
The impenetrable El Capitán of cloud and electricity that loomed over the obliviously sunlit asphalt.
Yes.
It was a good day, after all.
