Jen and Michal went to the lake that week.
The sky was gray and the clouds were like a blanket, woven together by strings and puffs, and just in between them Jen could see the dull blue of the sky.
They met in the lobby of the apartment building.
Michal was there when Jen came down, just like always. They went to the store first to buy bread, a long French loaf that felt a little awkward under Jennifer's arm, but that she held nevertheless.
When they reached the lake, which was nestled in the middle of a small park, Jen and Michal looked around to find a bench to sit on.
The trees were bare, the bark showing up against the gray sky and short, yellow grass that crunched under their feet.
Michal looked somber that day, and he didn't talk as much. Jennifer didn't know why, and she didn't ask.
When they found a bench it was black and metal. Thankfully it did face the lake. As they sat down, Jen was surprised at how cold the metal was and wondered if Michal thought the same thing.
Jen unwrapped the loaf of bread, broke off some, and handed it to Michal. He took it without a word, and, chunk by chunk, the bread disappeared.
They didn't say a thing the whole time.
