Picture

It was nice to be young. I loved being young. The picture I remember the most is the one of me when I was running. I loved running through the open fields. My cry of joy rang through the air. It pierced through the silence like an arrow heading for a target. The feeling of freedom pulsed through my veins. The sky was dotted with big fluffy clouds, and a clear blue sky stretched as far as the eye could see. I ran. The feelings of the tall grasses of the field were trying to reach out to touch my legs, but in my head, I was too fast to catch. I didn’t even feel like my feet were touching the ground. Finally breathing hard, I fell to the ground. That’s where the picture was taken. My eyes are a clear blue, not even looking at the picture; I was looking up at the big fluffy clouds as they shifted into different shapes above my head. My smile was pure, as sharp air entered my lungs and warm burst flowed out. I was smiling because the grass was tickling my arms and legs. The sun beat down on me and I felt like its rays were wrapping around my skin. My mom lay down next to me and wrapped her arms around me. While lying there, I let the sweet smells of the grass drift into my nose, and I closed my eyes. There I drifted off to sweet dreams. My mom carried me home, but I don’t remember it. I woke up and the day was still fresh in my mind. There was so much joy for one little child.