Passing of Times
I remember ever so sharply the more distant moments of my past. I can remember far back to my first years of consciousness, perhaps 3 or 4 years old. I could not comprehend even what age was at the time, but I could remember the finest details of our somewhat old and rundown, yet ever so familiar home. I could recall the dreamlike sharpness of the silver faucet in our kitchen sink, the brownish tinge of the soft carpet beneath my feet, and the flare of the bleeding-blue sky outside my window. There was the greatest satisfaction in the simplest of things, from the mere planting of a cornstalk to the feeding of ducks and fishes. I cared less for the future and more for the moment. Each day held a new surprise. Baby birds would occasionally fall from the tree in the front lawn. Frogs and crickets could be found in the backyard if one searched hard enough. The world was unbounded. One day I found myself finally able to ride...[More]
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