DzŠƒ–†‘›‘—‡ƒǫdz Dz”‡›‘—†‘‹‰ƒ›–Š‹‰—†ƒ›ǫdz Dz‘””›ǡdz•ƒ‹†ǤDzŠƒ˜‡ƒ†ƒ–‡™‹–Š–Š‹•‰‹”ŽǤŠ‡ǯ•”‡ƒŽŽ›…—–‡ǡ„—–‹ˆ †‘ǯ–•’‡†–‹‡™‹–ŠŠ‡”ǡ•Š‡‰‡–•ƒŽŽŠ›•–‡”‹…ƒŽ and it turns into this big ™Š‘Ž‡–Š‹‰Ǥdz Dz‘—ǯ”‡Ž›‹‰ǡƒ”‡ǯ–›‘—ǫdz DzŠƒ–‹ˆƒǫdz DzŠ‡‹–ǯ••‡––Ž‡†ǡdz•Š‡•ƒ‹†ǤDz‡‡–‡‹ˆ”‘–‘ˆ–Š‡–”ƒ‹•–ƒ–‹‘ƒ– ‡Ž‡˜‡‘—†ƒ›‘”‹‰ǤǯŽŽ™”‹–‡ƒ„‘—–‹–‹›‡‘‹”ǡ•‘›‘—ǯ†„‡––‡” …‘‡Ǥdz Showing no actual concern or need for my assent, she waved goodbye and began walking home. Beyond her, the summer sky gazed down upon us, with its orange and pink only just starting to give way to ultramarine. Without waving, I turned my back to her and started walking. As I took the familiar way home, the boisterous chatter and laughter around the school faded away, and the deep blue gradually claimed the rest of the sky. I saw the same streets I always did, and she saw the same streets she always did, but I got the feeling how we saw them was completely different. I would keep walking this same path until I graduated high school. I wondered how many more times she would walk hers. Š‡”‡‡„‡”‡†™Šƒ–•Š‡•ƒ‹†Ǥ…‘—Ž†ǯ–‘™‡šƒ…–Ž›Š‘™ƒ› more times I wouŽ†™ƒŽ‹‡Ǥ•Š‘—Ž†ǯ–•‡‡›’ƒ–Šƒ›†‹ˆˆ‡”‡–Ž›–Šƒ she saw hers. I held a finger to my neck to make sure I was still alive. I took a step with each pulse of my heartbeat, and my mood soured by the forced awareness of the transience and fragility of my life. A cool evening breeze came along and distracted me from this train of thought. I decided to think of something more positiveȄdeciding whether or not I would leave the house on Sunday.