I remember my days as a small child. There was nothing in mind more graceful than a spring shower and stringy wildflowers beginning to blossom in the sun. The world was somehow brighter, full of life and wonder. My eyes would sparkle as the drops of silver, more precious than gold, would hit my young face. As I looked around everything was perfect. Wind blew my stringy brown hair back, making it seem almost like the grass that surrounded me. I had not a care in the world, this was all that mattered. I felt as if I was somehow part of the beauty of this serene scene. For reasons I cannot explain, these complex thoughts circled my tiny head. Every day during the spring, I would think back to this amazing moment. Soon, life changed and this magical land was lost, pushed to the deepest depths of my mind. Thoughts of boys and popularity swirled through my mind, clouding the true importance of life. Now in my old age, I understand the strange complexities of life. Every spring, I travel to the old country in which I grew up, searching for my youth.
Story and art (c) Chocolate.
Story and art (c) Chocolate.
