Papers and plastic bags have piled on the basement floor as she’s gone on the cleaning chore. She’s sitting there sorting out and labeling what needs recycling and what goes to the trash when an outworn small wooden box grasps her attention. Her fingers reach out to the rusty lock and manage to open the mystery box unveiling a cluster of photos amid other things she can’t make out. A chuckle flees her mouth at recalling the people lining in a photo she picked, memories of the old days float to the surface of her mind..
Back then, she was a typical fool; irresponsible and dreamy. She used to be aimless and clumsy, her priority was her looks and her worst nightmare was missing the prom. That day when she lined up with her friends taking photos was her sweet 16, look at how old she has grown!
Shuffling through the pics, warmth rush into her system as flickers of her old life sneak before her eyes. She bursts out laughing when the memory of the guy who lived next door nudges her, how on earth could she have a crush on a boy with that length of hair or that amount of smoke coming out of his mouth?! Back then she wasn’t aware that manhood isn’t measured with how “funky” one looks!
The squeak of the door behind her draws her back to reality and she turns to face the little girl standing at the doorstep. “Hunnie, what brought you down here? Have you finished your milk?” The girl nodded. “Bravo! Let’s make you a sandwich!”… The box of memories has to wait on the floor until the little girl is fed.