The perfumy smell of cherry blossoms flowed through the cloudless sky. A single plane carved two white lines deep into the azure heavens. Mockingbirds perched nearby echoed noises of car doors chirping and baby kittens mewling. If I rushed my way to school, I would end up about twenty minutes early, so, without boarding the bus, I took my time and enjoyed my surroundings.
Trees with fat clumps of green leaves and pink flowers stretched across the brick sidewalk as a shady tunnel, parting away once I reached the crosswalk. Beyond them, the city, though poor, bustled with all its modern metropolitan charms. Cars whizzed past, plumes of steam from the various restaurants formed into one aromatic cloud, indistinct conversations crossed paths and went, and businesses began to open for the day.
This was the town I grew up in, and no matter how many times I walked by it, the nostalgic feelings that came with the sights, sounds and smells never got old. On this day, however, those feelings cou