A Season Lost, Where Dragons Once Strode

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Breaking dawn. Cracking bat against ball. Children playing. it is the time of their lives. Was it not so for me as well?

But now that is gone. Only filled with turning papers. Scrubbing floors of other men. Work. monotony. Life seems so different in only a few short years.

Cherish. What is gone? Nothing. Life still moves, still churns as it ever did. As as it ever would be. But what is different? Nothing but myself.

Life. It moves to the hypnosis of the screens in every hand. And now even when the season comes, the streets seem not so full of laughter and memeories as they once were. Is it only to me? Or is it to all?

Change. I have changed. The world has circled the star of Sol many times since I last swung the bat, since I last slew a dragon, since I last dreamed a dream of child's joyful scream. The rush of wind threw hair uncovered as racing down a slope too steep. Mother would be cross! But then, no notion could hold against the present, the moment, the time of my life.

Now. Now I sit every day. And look at a screen, where others are fabricated and enjoy the adventures which were once mine. Little creations of word and paper, a story told from my mind to another. Is it as close as I can get now? To adventure?

No! Adventure can come now, just as then. Let me find a new dragon to slay, then enjoy the day! Enjoy the day! Life is not different, only I. And a man can choose what he is as easy in adulthood as in childhood. It is my choice. It is my quest. Lets find a dragon to slay.

Created: Jul 26, 2012

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A.C. Moore Document Media