• The fresh crisp air; filling up my lungs.
    The suns rays; feasting upon my skin.
    Time pushes me back into reverse.

    I stand beside a school door.
    Seeing children trying to cure the pain of someone I know.
    Water droplets fall from her face.
    She wipes her eyes with her soft pale hands.

    I return outside and I can smell the air.
    It smells like death.
    ...Tough times will come ahead.

    I look up and notice the American flag.
    It waves at me while I salute back.