And he was prancing gleefully around his parents,
energetic even as the orange hues of the street lamps cast silhouettes over all that is below,
a physical cloak of lethargy emnating from its owners.
A young child,
where his only worries was how he was going to get his hands upon that red crayon
he had been eyeing on the colouring bench at school in the morning,
or how to get the canteen auntie to give him more
of that teeny little round biscuit with the little coloured sugary bits at the top.
He was prancing around his parents, around his father
in fact,
Attemping to catch the wafts of haze
like smoke that had magically appeared from
his father's mouth
after he had taken puffs from that paper stick he held to his hands.
His mother watched on,
holding his younger brother's hand, he standing silently,
staring in wonder at how his brother was trying to 'catch'
that fascinating haze in the air.
~
you know you have truly grown up, when your worries have surpassed simply worrying for your grades, worrying of the impression people have of you, or even worrying about matters of the heart -teenage whims in face of other issues.
~
I'm just really tired, that's all.




