The tattered worn down, gray fabric hung barely by the gaping holes at the top of the seven-foot window. A slit just big enough for rays of the golden shimmering sun to shine through the dark and dingy cave like house. Illuminating as best as it could. Giving what little happiness it could provide. A breeze of fresh, warm summer air whirled around. Instantly sending waves of nostalgia through me, from decades ago. I can almost start to feel my beating heart shutter in rhythm with my breathing. How could such a feeling send waves of comfort and peace through every fiber of my rigid body? But like everything in life, it must come to an end. Just as quickly as it came, the blinding glimpse of hope gracefully slid across the room, taking every memory as it could with it, while it swept across the room only in hopes of return in the morning.