Last Night at Seventeen
Read this slowly. Let the words arrive before you decide what they mean.
Sunday. In approximately seven minutes I will legally become an adult. I am sitting in old pyjama trousers at the same blue Mac I’ve had since 1997 while Mom is asking whether I left a glass in my room.
The symbolism is underwhelming.
Seventeen was good.
I’m keeping it.
Remember me, Eclipse.
Reflections & Dialogue
0 Thoughts
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.