Pam’s apartment was small in every way.  In addition to tiny rooms and too little space, Pam’s apartment had an equally small balcony in the back.  Or at least that’s what Pam liked to think of it as.  Most would call it a fire escape with a lovely view of the brick wall belonging to the building next to hers.

Jim, however, had moved back into the house with his roommate Mark.  His house had a back porch with semi-comfy plastic lawn chairs and dying foliage on the sides.  In the back of the yard, which was probably almost as big as Pam’s apartment, there was a large tree, just beginning to change colors.

When Pam came over for dinner, Jim would joke that she spent more time out on the porch watching the yard than she did with him.  Pam would only laugh because she knew he liked it out there too.  And every time he cooked for her, he would bring it outside and they would eat their grilled cheese sandwiches in semi-comfy plastic lawn chairs.

Tonight was different though.  Mark had accidentally broken one of the chairs doing god-knows-what (Jim knew it would be completely useless to even ask), so now there was only one.  When he walked out back, balancing two sandwiches (he put ham on them this time) in one hand and two drinks in the other, he saw Pam sitting cross-legged on the grass.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, holding Jim’s University of Scranton sweatshirt close to her to keep out the chilly autumn breeze.  She was watching the red and golden leaves fall from the tree and dance their way down towards the ground.

Jim sat down next to her, handing Pam her sandwich.  “Bon appétit,” he joked.

She bit into her sandwich, chewing and swallowing approvingly.  “Ham?  Getting a little crafty, Halpert?”

He laughed, knowing he had done well.

Pam’s eyes drifted back to the scene before them.  Even though it was just barely six o’clock, the sun was nearly set.  Only a few traces of pink were left in the sky, contrasting nicely with the falling leaves.

The last of the sun was fading into the night as they finished their dinner.  Pam shivered as the evening air began to sneak through the warmth of the jacket.  Jim’s arm snaked around her, pulling her close to him.

Head on his shoulder, Pam continued to watch the sky.  She was almost certain something as lovely as falling leaves and early fall sunsets couldn’t even be captured in art. “Can you think of anything more beautiful?” she asked.

Picking a red leaf from Pam’s curls and tossing it aside, Jim leaned in and kissed Pam’s forehead.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah I can.”