Sometime, somewhere

Thoughts fly at a speed higher than the car I am riding in.

Figures and structures on the sidewalk look blurred, as I try to click a picture of memories.

Yes, memories of the days I spent hanging around here. There is not a single familiar face who would recognize me. And who has time to stop and stare anyway?

Yet … I am here after two decades to buy all the property I can. Maybe, I find my lost happiness trapped between those crumbling walls.

Someone, sometime, something, somewhere there… in the past, with life moving in reverse gear.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner