Squeaks and squeals came from the bottom of grass stained shoes running quick along the cheap speckled linoleum, and we were nothing but young. We were nothing but free. And we would run through those halls like the memories of others here before us lived only to tell tales of adventure and never stories to haunt us like boredom or monotony. Or maybe we ran like we didn’t know what lay ahead, like we didn’t have time for whatever wasn’t thickly felt in the present. The smell of boys, erasers, old books, bubble gum, chalk and really bad decisions like wet tongues against frozen poles hang like stars in little dreamers mind.

Our right hands would brush light against the white cement walls and we’d feel our hearts beat strong though our giggling cheeks while our teachers hushed us and told us not to go running through halls.

– – – – – – – – – – –

My hand runs along grey concrete while fluorescent lights scatter above and beside me. Not much has changed; my heart beats fast and I run up that suit and tie stairwell like life is somewhere and there for me. As though it were simply for the taking, or like God really means it when He says he wants to give us life to the full. I grin haphazardly while I shake my head of things to come- of life to come and I’ve got people hushing me, telling me not to go running through life. I grin haphazardly because I know. Skinned knees, lessons, sweet air and bad decisions will come and than they’ll go because they’re all part of this place. There is nothing left in life to give to fear; only to run through with strong hearts and giggling cheeks.

We never needed more than some good stained shoes, friends, and a little bit of bubblegum anyway. And I’m about to take note because honestly, not much has changed.