“That’s pretty,” said Senta.  “Is that a sunset or a rainbow?”

She was

walking down Contico Boulevard, hand in hand with her cousin Bertice.  Mrs. Gantonin who lived next door had told Granny about a family whose boys had died and who were now giving away their clothes.  With a house full of children, free clothes were not to be overlooked lightly.

“What are you talking about, you little bint?”

“Up there.”  Senta pointed off to the right.

“Didn’t you learn that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west?  That way is south.  How could it be sunset?  Besides, it’s only half past four.  I’d still be at work if they hadn’t run out of number four thread.”

“A rainbow, then?”

“There’s no rainbow.  There’s not been a drop of rain for a week.  How could there be a rainbow.  I don’t see anything at all.”

“Well, I see something.  It’s swirly with red and yellow and blue and purple, like a storm that’s coming, only made out of colors.”

“You need to get your eyes fixed, you do,” said Bertice, giving her arm a yank.