She arranged the freshly cut orange slices on the wooden table, plucked two dewy orange blossoms, and tucked them casually into a glass. Sunlight filtered through the translucent fruit, casting dappled patterns on the table, as the sweet aroma of oranges mingled with the floral scent and drifted past her nose.

The sweat from her work in the orchard still lingered, and her fingertips were stained with the peel’s essential oil. She picked up a slice of orange and bit into it—its sweet-tart juice burst across her mouth, blending with the crispness of the orange blossom to soften the afternoon heat.

There was no need for an elaborate presentation, no rush to keep time. Right now, she only let the orange fragrance wrap around the breeze, the flower scent soak up the sunlight, and turn this ordinary afternoon into a sweetness all her own.