Author's Note: I've been meaning to get this Creative Writing story in forever. I wrote in over five months ago, in July! Of course, this was inspired by a song, "Summer" by Joe Hisaishi. Please enjoy.
A child's laugh is heard. Light breaks out over the mountains. A smile is formed on the sun's face. The world awakens.
A child runs from her house. A tricycle in one hand and a small doll in the other.
Joy reaches the neighborhood. Music flows from the old piano in Ms. Johnson's house. A window is opened, making the sound even more clear. A sign of peace rests upon the moment.
The child on the street takes off, her braids flowing from behind her. Her doll is sitting in her lap, bouncing as the small tricycle carries them down the hill and up the sidewalk.
An old man watches as they pass. Silently, a tear falls upon his hand. His heart swells and his mind wanders. Memories of childhood fill his soul.
Candy, laughter, cookies, a kiss on a cut finger. The simplest things seem so far away. But his fingers clamp together and he smiles as the child runs on.
A soft breeze is interrupted by a sudden tinkling noise. The children of the neighborhood rush outside. The beloved ice cream truck slows to a stop. A treat for everyone.
The ice cream man smiles as a cone here and a popsicle there are handed out. Slowly the small freezer empties and the man's eyes become cloudy.
Childhood.
His eyes burn with tears and he turns away. Wiping the pain away with the back of his hand he breathes, slowly and grandly. He's here, to make up for once was lost to him to make it wonderful.
Neighbors weed their gardens. Friendly chatter adds to the tinkling music. A sudden burst of energy is left while children lick the last of their ice cream off their fingers.
The children are herded into their homes for their supper and baths. A laugh echoes while the sun sets. Darkness falls, and through each window in the second floor of every house, a child is peering out, wishing on a star.
Lights slowly go off, one by one. An eerie silence falls. The smell of dew overcomes the night. A soft lullaby lingers among the trees. Fireflies dance merrily along the grass.
But one window still shows a face. The face of a young girl. Eyes full of hope, taking in life. Smelling the dew, talking to the stars. Music echoes softly through her ear phones. A black liquid pen with a yellow notebook sits in her arms. She smiles as the night passes. And she writes while a new day begins.
And her eyes fall upon the rising sun. And as a child laughs she falls captive to sleep.
The girl is me.
Childhood memories.
-msof57
