15

Today is a lovely day. The trees are green. The dandelions are starting to blow in the perfect breeze. The sun is high in the sky. The neighbourhood is the most peaceful it's been in weeks. It's a great day, at all ends and yet it's empty. Sunday used to be a family day and now it's full of people running around doing our own things. My sibling has homework, my mother is helping as usual, my father is out and about on some new date of his. I miss the structure and regularities of being a child. Everything was exciting and new. Sundays were days I'd awake to pots and pans clanging to scramble eggs and fry up blueberry pancakes. That was at the old house. That was what seems like a lifetime ago. That is what I miss today. The old traditions. The ones you look back on and find them to be perfect. Those memories that are so vague they are now only held onto by a small graphic or sound. So little detail is left in your mind but that's what makes it perfect. Your mind wanders in and out of that thought and nothing seems to be wrong. A small memory of traditional moments that can never be repeated for what they were. I'd replace this lovely day to hear those pots and pans and taste those smells again.
The End.