If my Moon Was Your Sun

Max tried to act as he always did in the nursing home;
quiet, calm, and well, Max-ish. The few old faces that
had quickly looked up when he came in were already
looking down again. He nodded to Leon, the caregiver
who had let him in. Leon smiled back briefly before he
disappeared in a hurry down the next hallway. Everyone
here knew Max.
He took a deep breath. It smelled like weak tea –
peppermint and chamomile. The common room, with
its warm yellow walls and windows that reached all
the way down to the floor, was the exact opposite of the
schoolyard with its hubbub and commotion. In here,
quiet and warmth were the order of the day, and no loud
words were ever spoken. For just a moment, Max felt
comfortable and drowsy- the atmosphere of the nursing
home surrounded him like a soft, protective blanket. For
just a moment, he thought that what he’d like most was
to breathe out slowly and stay here forever.