It was a warm, sunny afternoon—the kind that made the world feel suspended in time. Drew and I sat on our bench beneath the old oak tree, its leaves whispering secrets from summers past. The playground before us was both familiar and foreign, each swing and slide a ghost of our childhood adventures.
Children’s laughter echoed, and I could almost see our younger selves chasing dreams as wild as the sky. The air was thick with nostalgia.
“Remember when we thought we could conquer the world?” I asked.
Drew smiled, a touch of melancholy in his eyes. “Back when our biggest worry was who got the slide first.”
We laughed, the sound belonging to a different era. “Those days were magic,” I whispered. “Growing up means carrying that magic, even when life gets heavy.”
Drew squeezed my hand. “We
