The smell of lotion, sticky skin, a small wooden boat, it’s white cotton sail dripping as you hold it tenderly in your tiny hands. The sparkling sun scintillating on the water dazzling sight. A dog barks, the wind ruffles your dry tousled hair, and the chimes of an ice cream van float softly on the warm breeze from far away, promising treasure…Such precious, perfect days, pressed within the pages of the book of memory, forevermore.

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