I found it where time forgets to look -
a quiet corner, dust settling like soft years.
A small thing, really. Plastic, worn,
its colors are no longer loud with pride.
But when I held it,
something loosened inside me.
For a moment,
I am not who I’ve become—
just who I was,
kneeling on the floor,
making kingdoms out of nothing.
And then it’s gone again—
not the toy,
but the time it carried.
