Have you ever had a memory so vivid, it feels less like a memory and more like a scar? I was ten years old. The world was our street, and the sun was our clock. The air was thick with the scent of cut grass and the drone of late-summer cicadas. My friends and I were shadows in the last game of hide-and-seek as dusk bled purple and orange across the sky. Then came the chorus, a familiar symphony...
