Perhaps there is something out there, something that we couldn't even imagine was real. Something that defies time itself. We could look for it all we want, but the only way one could find it, is through accident.
“Lost time is never found again,” – Benjamin Franklin
What was it about summer that is so different from every other season? I suppose each season has their own individual feeling, but summer was so distinct, with an almost unanimous connotation. With the commencing life from spring now flourishing to its potential, maybe human beings think the same. Perhaps summer is brimming with potential, and so we feed off of that energy, that hope, that maybe we'll do something significant.
At that time, I was lying in my bed, wondering at what point of discomfort is a bed no longer considered a bed. Not only was a good night's sleep a scarce experience for me, on the rare occasion it did happen, it was interrupted by nightmares. Of course, I didn't like thinking of these things. My mind often jumped to conclusions, desperate to find a meaning in these dreams. So, as I usually had to do, I had to find someway to distract myself.
I shifted uncomfortably, not keeping my eyes off the ceiling. I jolted into a sitting position as I heard someone call my name. The voice echoed up the stairs and entered my room. The voice belonged to my mother, strident with impatience.
“Hello?” the voice called again, this time much louder than before. I threw myself onto my pillow
“Just a minute,” I groaned, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. I started stepping out of my room, peering down the stair way. I didn't see anyone, or anything for that matter. It was a peculiar find, for the walls were usually covered in framed photographs and miscellaneous paintings, but now they were bare and dismal. I took my time stepping down the staircase, thoughts rushing throughout my mind. I had become so distracted by my own thoughts that time had become lost in the midst of it all. I could not recall the day or month anymore, and all that I knew was that it was a summer morning. I'm sure my distraught behavior was just brushed off as indolence. While I feared their disappointing looks, I kept stepping further down until I was greeted by their faces. Their smiles seemed painted on.