The Setting Sun

Somehow, my bare feet avoid being pricked by the splinters that reside in the planks beneath me. The dock creeks with every step I take, drawing nearer and nearer to it’s edge. It is has grown old with me; while I thrive, it withers away.

The water gently ripples beneath the wooden structure, softly lapping at the support beams. I pause, hoping to take a moment to admire the strength that the pillars holding the dock in place. But it is not as sturdy as it was in my youth.

The sinking sun drags the color from the sky down with it, leaving an ombré trail. A glowing orange melts into lukewarm pink, then into a cold purple, dusted with the sky’s snowflakes: stars. They don’t shine as bright as they used to.

I have finally reached the end of the dock, and I feel my body sit down without my mind commanding it to do so. It must be out of habit, even though I have not inhabited the

lakeside abode for years now. I watch as the sun burrows itself further into the trees, leaving me alone.

This dock used to be full of life. Memories stain my mind’s walls in vibrant colors. I remember when I first learned to swim. It was in this very lake. I recall fearfully drawing closer to the water, floaters hugging both of my arms. When I was old enough to not cry at the sound of the crackling fireworks, my father let me come out of the house and watch them on the dock with him and few of his friends. The scene reeked of beer, but I didn’t mind it. I had my first kiss here too. I was wrapped the embrace of my closest friend when her lips pressed against mine. I remember how my heart was lit aflame. Baby steps, growing up, first love. All of that was here. Now, the dock is empty.

I feel tears streaming down my cheeks and my lip slightly shakes. Even though my memories are full of laughter and fun, they are gone. Like the sun, my childhood has faded away.

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