Two.

The chains of the swing tinkle as I sway from front to back – tippy toes touching the ground as I am ever too short.

I hear voices mingling with frogs and it is so different than the last time I was in this place.

There are no tears, nobody trying to console me.

There is no snow on the ground and only a fraction of bitterness to the air.

How far I’ve come in such a short amount of time since that moment of opening when my world as I knew it was shattered – when my seemingly indestructible shell was cracked.

A different time in a different place – how everything is connected.

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