Sat upon the gazebo's bench, she closes her eyes.
Swoosh. Swoosh.
The slow sounds of rippling water and rustling reeds fill her ears;
hears the yanma flitting to and fro, as well as the skittering of bugs;
listens to the barking of the wingulls and quacking of ducklett.
[She could just imagine her grandmother beside her, taking in the fresh lake air as her then eevee, Kit, hops onto the prim lady's lap, all but turning into a rug beneath her wizened hands.
Watch as the lady points out all the different bird pokemon and even imitates their calls with startling accuracy, singing back and forth with them.
Could imagine her serious grandfather down on the deck, fishing with that old rod he's had since she could remember.
Laugh with the man when he'd make silly faces after catching a fish bigger than her pouting sentret.
See him showing Sly, still a mischievous sentret, how to whip his tail to entice the magikarp closer, sneaking her 'mon a butterscotch candy every time he wrangles up a fish with his line.]
Laughs at a memory that could've been repeated...
She smiles, shakes her head as tears trail down her cheeks.
Wipes them away as she hikes her bag back on.
Turns away from her parent figures' dissipating forms and continues on.
.
.
.