His three year old boy looked up to him as they walked over the lovely meadow land. They were so happy together, equal-aged just then. The buttercups and purple clover looked identical in their eyes. “I sometimes come running here when you’re asleep, darling” he said. His child quickly replied, “Daddy, when you were a baby, I used to run here too.” And his hairs bristled at their sudden swap of places and how Time had suddenly joined them on their walk and taken them both by the hand.
Constant Voice 