One minute you were a young kid again, running across the dandelion fields that stretched an acre or so beyond the old wooden fence that kept you from venturing too far from your grandmother's house.

The scenery looked like something you would only see in art museums.

It was surreal.

It was breathtaking.

A lush, vibrant green landscape adorned with white spots. The colors blended as if the morning sunlight decided to play tricks with the hues. The grass' shadows were almost indistinguishable from the rich chocolate-brown earth beneath the soles of your gray Nikes. The same pair you received a few Christmas gatherings ago from a god parent you haven't even met until then.

The wind carried away all your anxieties—far, far, away.

Far away, as if they followed the same path the dandelions took as they floated around you and vanished into the sky.

*

The next minute, you were watching the sun set over the ocean as the waters tickled your bare, sand-covered feet. The tiny waves still warm from being bathed under the afternoon heat, reminding you of the events that transpired a few hours ago prior to this moment.

This calm, relaxing moment.

You closed your eyes as the sea breeze passed by.

In that moment, time halted to listen to the steady beating of your own heart. A rhythmic thumping inside your chest, obscured to the world by the still wet t-shirt that clung to your salty, tanned skin.

Fingers combed through the fine-grained sand, finding the outline of a small seashell. Lifting it against the waning glow of orange light, you smiled upon discovering the strength of its hard material.

A strength that can withstand the waves.

The same waves that washed away your depression—a long, long time ago.

*

In the last minute, the scent of freshly brewed coffee woke up your drowsy soul.

Sitting alone inside a old-fashioned coffee shop that was nestled between a secondhand bookstore and a French bakery, you took in the surroundings like a lover would take in the nude beauty of their spouse for the very first time.

The steam coming from the porcelain white cup served to you not a while ago drifted upwards, almost feathering the low, wooden ceiling.

Brushing your hand across the table decorated with a hand-made crochet tabletop, a deep red—almost maroon—embellishment, your cold fingers skimmed the pages of a classic mystery novel you've kept tucked inside your backpack since the semester started.

You breathe in the unique aroma, an assortment of antique furniture, tanning pages, and roasted coffee beans.

The place made you feel safe and secure, introducing a comfort you never thought was possible in real-life.

The coffee drowned all your uneasiness—down, down into the pits of non-existence until there was nothing left but a peace of mind.

You realized all you ever wanted was a peace of mind.

*

Someone called your name, breaking the spell.

The dandelion field, the beach, and the coffee shop dissipated in thin air, moments that have long been a part of the past.

Sighing, you closed the photo album and left the room.

Not before throwing a longing look at the memories that you wanted to relive so badly.

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𝘐𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘴𝘵 - (𝘯.) 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩 𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰.