A Drained Pool

I walked into the backyard, leaves crunching crisply beneath my feet. No one was around to witness my expedition; this thrilled me. I continued to round the house, which wasn't the size of most, casting a shadow over the block.

When I finally rounded the back corner I saw a pool, drained for the season. The scene stood in grand contrast to what I imagined would be behind the towering rustic structure that was the Lewis Mansion, whose stone masonry hearkened back to a time when structures were utilities second and art first. But the scene laid out before me could have been found behind any home in town. My vision of splendor faded with every passing moment my eyes remained open. The statues became non-existent, the towering, spiraling, trees became one tree, too close to the pool and practically bare of its leaves, and the fountain lit by colorful lights, spraying its contents, which could have been water, but looked more like the light's purest form spraying into the pool below, this image was replaced by the drained pool whose glory was drained out with it. Feeling, though, that this was the only thing of interest, I approached the pool.

Expecting to see the pool's cement floor, my eyes were taken a back by bright orange leaves and the golden blond hair of a girl, whose well bundled up form was laid out on top of them. Thoughtfully she stared into the blue above, while I couldn't bring my gaze off of the blues in her eyes. They suddenly flickered in my direction, winding me in a way I couldn't explain. She sat up slightly, a smile spreading across her face.
"Hey! What's your name?" she asked at precisely the same time the answer had left me.