This is where we ran. Where we laughed. Where we played. Where we waited for nothing in particular, just happy to be there. Now, it’s all still, the swing set quiet, the court untouched, one light bravely glowing as if holding on for someone to return.
The school was closed for a two-week break, no kids, no staff, yet that window was lit. I never found out why.
Where We Were feels like a photograph tucked in the back of a drawer, faded, but never forgotten.
As the years pass, I find myself visiting these places more in thought than in person. It’s a quiet tribute to the moments that made us, and to the places that remember even when we forget.
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