This is a very short story I wrote May 8th 2001. I actually wrote it after doing what it describes. I hope you like it.
As he left his house, he thought it was sad to see the perfect day end. It had been one of those early spring days where you could wear shorts and short sleeves, but cool enough that you didn't fry. The sun was bright and only a few puffy clouds were in the baby blue sky.
He was heading out to the school for a walk with his dog. The temperature had dropped a few degrees, it was now cool and the sky was turning navy blue. He looked out at the orange white sun falling from the sky. And as he looked, he sat at the steps of the school's main doors.
He watched the sun settle and paint the sky. The passing planes left clouds that looked only perfect. The orangey sphere was half way down behind the tress and the sky had blues, purples, pinks, oranges, reds, and yellows that made the best picture you could ever see. The sun was invisible to the eye now, but as an artist it left the perfect paintings. He then could only think that it wasn't the end of a perfect day, but the beginning of a new one. It was a... it was a sunset to smile at.
Finally he got up and walked home with his dog. He smiled the whole way there, the scene still in his head. As he walked into the house, only two things crossed his mind, a sunset was a beautiful thing to see. The second was a wonder if the sunrise was just as wonderful. But still he thought, it was a sunset to smile at.
