Blink.
It’s gone.
Childhood innocence washed away from the storm.
Kept it in your hands, yet it’s like sand, no tight grip could hold on.
My great grandmother left the planet when I was ten years young.
We called her Nana. We watched her die.
Harsh, I know. Yet, the truth.
My mother was brave, letting her children be a part of this journey.
Our family was building a raft, once Nana left us, we could float for a while.
I say float because our compass was with her.
Each story is different, the effect the same.
A millisecond of time, our hearts changed.
Our child eyes go blind. We see reality for the first time.
We fall into line.
The hoards of humans whose heart crumbled stepping into darkness for the first time.
