It was a calm summer evening where I stepped out to overlook the lake lapping at the banks belonging to my childhood

memories of running faster and faster until the laces on your shoes untie into long noodles of well drawn wool waggling

and writhing on the backs of the finest sheep that worn socks could buy until eventually everyone is left barefoot in the

grass until you step on enough Lego to build new boots which aren't all that good but aren't all that bad either so chin up

and think about all those times you forgot about the world passing you by with its wispy winds whirling wildly along the

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city housing thousands of mugs of morning coffee simultaneously sipped through straws carved from a meticulous

process passed down from generation to generation of carpenters whose hands and fingers were chunky like the peanut

butter fed to animals during movies to shift their mouths in an encyclopedia of twisted shapes only achievable by the

worlds most renound contortionists whos secret lies not with practice or extra bones which makes you just tall enough to

ride on your own even though you know you are at least two years too young for the teacups spinning and swirling your

brain into mushy peas and broccoli soup just like gran used to make back in the days when the world really was only

seen in black and white with light which broke through the curtains of the house overlooking the lake where I was

skipping stones to create ripples of thought bouncing and reflecting on forever towards an endless sea covering our

world of languished laughes lamenting over a drop of milk slowly slipping down an ice cold glass.