past.

The cold air breeze, blowing harshly on the leaves scattered underneath the trees. They rattled, singing under the shine of moonlight, as it follows my footsteps.

Seeping under my skin, the breeze. It crept up to my ears, whispering tunes of lullabies. Nursery lullabies to my night, she sang.

……………

It starts to get rowdy, as table was set for 5. Set the cups, ring the bells.

“Pink. And a little bit of purple in pastel. Coated with light blue. Along with a dark black. And have my hair tied up with a pink bow.”

And here they are; my lifeless childhood playmate. Ready to serve. And I asked-

“A cup of tea please?”

“Of what?”

“Of childhood.”

…….

Suddenly, the clock chimed in, the dates rhymed in, and the merry tunes of owls brought to awake.

“Not a friend, or a foe is a time.”

Alas, the past can’t be traveled twice.

Later. She said.

Leaving her cold tea behind.