Sun shined through the window onto purple lilacs. A whole bunch of them in a vase. Purple with green leaves hanging on sticks. Smelled of spring.

She looked at them and then looked out her window at the trash in the yard. Cheetos wrappers, empty Marlboro boxes, crushed Coke cans, broken beer bottles, all laying amongst the dandelions and tall weeds. One of these days, the landlord would come by to mow, maybe clean up the garbage. But, nobody else on the block cared; why should she?

The old woman closed her blinds. Took another smell of the season and went to bed where she dreamt of wild flowers in an Italian meadow, cottages with windows open, mountains, and hills green with splashes of yellow, blue, violet, and crimson.

The dream brought her to a path where she picked mushrooms under tall wet trees. The ground was rich and dark. One by one, she placed them in her basket. She sang songs and was happy.

Later that morning, she awoke to the sound of lawnmowers and men speaking Spanish. Her wrinkled hands opened the blinds where she saw a trimmed lawn and trash being taken away in garbage bags. She smiled. Left the blinds open. And, smelled the lilacs one more time. Magic had taken place.

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