Monday, March 30, 2009

in the barn



The magic is gone from here, leaving behind soft hints of what had once been. It lingers still in the smell of this old barn, in the dusty floor beneath my bare feet. It whispers of the imagination of two children whose pursuit of adventure, whose desire for what is good and beautiful, and whose love for each other was what linked their hearts together. Now both are grown and both are lost in a world without magic, and the bond is stretched thin. These tears are for my childhood, for lost innocence and for magic disappearing. In my place once stood a little girl, afraid of nothing, and determined to believe in something better. Now here I stand, a little girl still, in a woman's body - alone and wondering where it has gone, how it was lost, or if perhaps it still exists somewhere, locked away and waiting to be found again and freed.

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