Coconut Grove nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.

Penn pulled himself out of his makeshift den beneath the palms that afternoon feeling perplexed. The sun was out. The skies were blue. The sand was a peculiarly soft shade of beige instead of the dingy grayish tan it had been for weeks. The breeze still held a chill, but it otherwise get somewhat warm. It was actually kind of… nice.

And thus, he was perplexed.

He was far too used to the weather matching the four mood he’d been in the past few weeks. To have things looking all bright and cheery felt off, even though he recognized that this was the way it ought to be in the grove. With mixed emotions over that, he set off down the beach with no real destination or intention. For the first time in a long while, Penn found he sort of just wanted to be in the sun.