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05/11/12(Fri)19:09 No.1871607>>1871298
>You sit on a park-bench, enjoying the peaceful day, now that you're old enough to really appreciate what a gift days like that are
>You can't run so well at your age - your feet, your knees and your back hurt more than they used to - but you really don't have any desire to anymore - you're content to sit and think like old men are wont to do.
>A woman walks past you, two children in tow, and tells them to go wild on the playground nearby - the same one you remember from years gone by.
>Sitting down on the bench next to you, the woman watches the children frolic and play with the pure, joyful abandon that living in the moment brings.
>What a gift it is, being young, you think to yourself.
>You strike up a conversation, and she tells you how she used to play on this playground herself, when a friend - more like a big brother, really - would bring her. You nod, and recall a similar story - a little sister who you spent countless afternoons watching over as she went wild with her two best friends.
>as time goes on, the similarities in your stories begin to add up, and it slowly dawns on her who she's speaking to.
>There's a moment of silence as she looks at you, realization dawning on her face, as you tell her how good it is to finally see her again. |
