Solitary Chronicles

         We all met at Tanners house. Each one of us making small talk and cracking jokes. The sun was still high in the air when we set out towards something we had forgotten. With no particular direction in mind I found myself walking at the back of the group, listening to all, and observing all. We walked past our old and weathered elementary school, and all the portable classrooms that were strewn out on the field. The steps beside the gym were still welcoming our carefree minds, yet they seemed much smaller and weaker. While we all felt the anxiety of the future weighing our shoulders down, it seemed if we tried them they would break. The air was resilient with the sounds of summer, and our collective compass pointed north. Towards the old oak tree that the forest used to conceal, but was now exposed and surrounded by parking lots and office buildings. We all sat down on the logs, as silence casted a shadow on our reunion, I leaned back against the tree, and a small piece of glass caught my eye ever so subtly. When I picked it up I was surprised to see my own reflection, or shocked because I was so young, and for a split second when I looked up again, I saw everyone five years younger, wasting time in the shade of the oak tree. Right then I realized this would be the last night of my childhood, of our childhood, because it was only when we all were together when we really felt like kids. Most of us were leading different paths this summer, and it was likely that we wouldn't all meet up again, so we set out once more, eager for one last adventure, and one last trip.